


King of My Heart

by CatiiaSofiia, MissChrisDaae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassination Attempt(s), Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 83,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatiiaSofiia/pseuds/CatiiaSofiia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChrisDaae/pseuds/MissChrisDaae
Summary: Anakin Skywalker's holiday to the small country of Naboo takes an unexpected turn when he unknowingly foils an assassination attempt meant for Padmé Naberrie, the nation's Crown Princess.Saving a Princess is crazy enough. The only thing crazier... well, actually, there are a few things.Things Anakin is well on his way to experiencing.





	1. And All At Once

**Author's Note:**

> We were planning on saving this until Friday, but then we heard about the Duke and Duchess of Sussex having their baby, so we decided to release this early in celebration.

“This is the oldest section of Theed, with some buildings that date back to Naboo’s founding in the fifth century.” The tour guide continued leading them through the streets. “You can see the influence of the primarily Roman settlers, but there are small touches from the other cultures that remain. These include Gaul, the Visigoths…”

As the woman kept talking, Anakin looked around, mesmerized by the town. Naboo was a hidden jewel of Europe and he was glad his mother convinced him to visit it for his holiday. He had seen pictures online, before booking the trip, but nothing made the city, the country, justice. He loved the architecture of the buildings and it has such a nice, rich culture, Anakin saw him coming back a lot more times.

He was moving with the crowd of the tour he had booked with the hotel. He glanced at the pamphlet in his hands before looking around to admire the native people, moving around their lives, people stopping to greet each other, walking their pets or going to and from work. It was a much nicer place than London. London didn’t stop, ever. It was fast-paced that, combined with gloomy weather, made him feel tired in a much faster way than Theed did. Here, the weather was fantastic and he hadn’t felt this relaxed since his last summer break before college.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure that didn’t match with the rest of the others. Dressed in dark clothes, that contrasted sharply against the crowd in bright, summer colors. Her hands were in her pockets and she was looking straight ahead. Anakin followed his line of sight to see her observing a young brunette woman, who was looking at some clothes in the window of a shop. Looking back at the strange woman, he saw her retrieve something from his pocket.

It was a gun.

After that, everything happened very quickly.

Anakin’s feet moved forward, sprinting towards the young woman. He might have had shouted some kind of warning because people were suddenly screaming and scrabbling around him, but Anakin felt his body colliding with the woman and a sharp, hissing pain on his bicep.

The girl hit the ground with a whimper, staring up at him in disbelief with warm brown irises. “ _ Tu m'as sauvé,” _ she gasped, her eyes somehow growing wider as she switched to lightly accented English. “You saved me.” Then her gaze moved over him, noticing that there was blood trickling from his arm onto her blouse. “You’re hurt!”

Anakin barely had time to utter a word, as another gunshot rang out and the girl beneath him curled in on herself, looking very small as the people around them scattered and screamed. He pressed his eyes shut, still hovering over her, protecting her by some primal instinct within him.

“ _ Princesse _ !”

“ _ Principessa! _ ” Gasps and whispers started to fill the plaza as people recognized her and members of something called the FSR, judging by the badges on their arms, began to push through the crowd. One of them pulled the young man off her, holding him by the collar and speaking in rapid-fire Italian.  _ “Sei con lui? Tu chi sei? Cosa stavi facendo alla principessa?” _

“Typho,  _ basta! Ha bisogno di un ospedale! _ ” the girl protested.

Anakin groaned as he became fully aware of the burning sensation on his arm. He looked down to see blood staining his sky blue t-shirt and there was a nasty gash where a bullet had probably wounded him. It didn’t feel like he had actually been shot - not that he had ever been shot - but it had definitely grazed him. It didn’t help that he was being so roughly handled by what could only be the girl’s bodyguards.

Why did a simple girl have bodyguards, anyway? Why would anyone shoot a simple girl?

Had he heard someone shouting  _ Principessa?  _ Wasn’t that the Italian word for  _ Princess?  _  Had he just saved a monarch? That would explain why there could be a potential attempt on her life.

“If you could release, please, I think I ought to visit a hospital?” Anakin tried to keep his voice calm. “I don’t wish anyone harm, so, if you could unhand me, that would be lovely.”

“ _ Mi ha salvato la vita, fa quello che dice, _ ” the Princess urged, getting to her feet. “ _ Sto bene. _ ” Switching to English, she reached out and touched Anakin’s uninjured shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmured as another guard began to pull her away towards a black car, he just gaped at her. She was stunning.

The man still holding Anakin started moving toward a different car. “We will see you treated,” he said through a thick Italian accent, “but you are not cleared as a suspect just yet.”

“Uh, excuse me? Didn’t I just…save your Princess, apparently?” He shook his head, his mind spinning. The man turned so that Anakin could properly see the black patch covering his eye.

“I will not rule out any possible threats to her safety,” he growled.

“Right,” Anakin drawled, one hand covering his bleeding wound. “You just missed the gunman aiming a shot at her. Which I saved her from. I can get looked after on my own.” The man’s scowl widened and he shoved Anakin into the backseat of the car, locking him inside.

His vacation period was turning out to be much more adventurous than he anticipated, when he boarded Heathrow, two days ago.

* * *

 

“You could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t!” Padmé protested, scowling at her father as she shifted the ice pack on her head. “You don’t need to lecture me like I’m a child.”  Her mind wandered briefly to the boy who had saved her life. His eyes had been the bluest she’d ever seen, so much so that they practically haunted her when she pictured them. Had he gotten the treatment he’d needed?

Her father scoffed. “You went out without letting Typho and his team do a security check and secure a perimeter. These are not times where you can stroll around the city unguarded!” 

“It’s not as though it was public knowledge that I was out there,” she retorted. “The only person I told was Sabé!”

“Who, I believe, indulges your needs too much,” Ruwee muttered. “Padmé, you are our only heir, you know our enemies see you as an easy target to eliminate. Please. You have to be more careful, sweetheart. Today could have ended in a tragedy!”

“But it didn’t!”

“Your Highness,” Chancellor Palpatine interrupted, folding his hand as he leaned forward in his chair. “Hysterics are not helping anyone.”

“ _ Hysterics, _ ” Padmé repeated, her lip curling in disgust at the prospect of being patronized. “The man who saved my life was being treated like a criminal when last I saw him! I’m more concerned with his well being than my own at this point! Why isn’t anyone telling me what happened to him?”

“He is being treated now, but we are still working on the various background checks and security measures,” Commander Panaka answered. “Typho has remained to guard him, in case he does prove to be in league with the assassins.”

“Even for our family, this is an excessive amount of paranoia, Papa,” Padmé remarked dryly.

“ _ You were nearly killed!” _ Ruwee shouted again. “I have every right to be concerned for your safety, you are my child and the Princess of Theed, the future Queen of Naboo! I will not see you put in harm’s way like this again!”

“Please, your Majesty, I know we are all on edge for what almost happened to the Princess, but we must focus our energy on the man that attempted to take her life,” Palpatine spoke, in a calm, low voice. Padmé’s hand clenched under the table as she resisted the urge to punch him. “What do you remember, your Highness?” He asked, turning to Padmé.

“I didn’t see anything before the young man knocked me down, I was looking in the window of a toy shop,” she answered stiffly. “He pushed me down, there were gunshots, people started screaming, and I stayed down on the ground until the Royal Security Forces arrived.”

“We were able to identify the body of the first shooter,” Panaka offered. “Her name was Zam Wessell, a hired assassin.”

“ _ Was _ ?” repeated Padmé. “I take it she’s no longer alive then?”

“The other shots were not at you, Princess, they were at Wessell. Making sure she couldn’t betray the greater plot, no doubt. We’re combing the area for the sniper’s location and any evidence they might have left behind, but they appear to have been more cautious than Wessell.”

“Whoever planned this attack was very cautious,” Palpatine started, lacing his fingers. “We should become more careful. Increase the security around the Princess. I trust Typho will interrogate our suspect so we can determine if he’s a threat?” He directed the question at Panaka.

“Yes. We should also have the file of the boy completed by the end of the afternoon.” Panaka confirmed.

“Good. I want a full report on every detail of this,” Ruwee said gruffly. “No loose ends.”

“Please leave a copy in my office. Meanwhile, your Highness,” Palpatine turned his attention to Padmé, again. “I suggest more caution. With public engagements, appearances, strolls you might feel like taking. Everything should be strictly necessary until we catch whoever is behind this.”

“Papa, this is absurd,” Padmé protested, looking at her father desperately. “You can’t—”

“I will not endanger your life, Padmé. This attack was a warning. I won’t allow them to accomplish their final goal. It’s my final decision.”

“I want to talk to him. The man who saved me,” she insisted. “He’s  _ not _ part of this, I know it. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal. I want to talk to him, I want to thank him.”

Ruwee looked thoughtful. “When Typho excludes him as part of the plan to assassinate you, you may see him.” Padmé narrowed her eyes and spun her chair to face away from the men assembled, muttering under her breath in French.

“ _ Je ne suis pas une fleur délicate, je peux me débrouiller _ ,  _ et— _ ”

“Padmé,  _ ça suffit _ ,” Ruwee barked. “After you speak to the young man, you will be confined to the palace until  _ I  _ deem it safe for you to engage with the public again.”

* * *

 

Anakin was feeling exhausted. This was not the afternoon he expected, but it was certainly interesting, comparing to every other day of his life. The Princess’ bodyguard had questioned him for  _ hours  _ before a nurse shooed him away, scolding him in French and smiling politely at Anakin, and finishing his bandage before giving him something to eat. There were guards on the door of his room, which meant they were probably worried he would try to run. 

He could understand their concern. He was always that type of guy that tried to see the problem from other people’s perspective, but it had been an extremely taxing and tiring day, and he was cranky. The doctor was only comfortable releasing him the next morning and he couldn’t help the snarky remark that fell from his lips when  _ Typho  _ bitterly told him he was  _ cleared.  _

In the hallway, he could hear the sound of loud, rapid arguing in Italian. Then the door opened, and Typho entered, removing the handcuffs that were keeping Anakin’s good arm secured to the hospital bed. Then, he left and the woman he’d saved walked in. 

Anakin was relieved to see her well, only a crease of concern between her eyebrows that he suddenly wanted to smooth over. She was beautiful, probably the most stunning woman he had ever met in his short life and he couldn’t help but stare and blink at her. He was speechless.

“Hello,” she said, taking a seat in the chair next to him and unbuttoning the blazer she wore over her crisp pink dress. “Would you prefer that I call you Anakin or Mr. Skywalker.”

“Anakin, please. I’m glad to see you are alright,” he replied softly. “Your Highness, I presume?” He raised his eyebrows. She blushed a little and ducked her head.

“Yes, that’s right,” she conceded softly. “But you didn’t know that when you saved me. True?”

“True,” he admitted with a small smile. “I was supposed to do a tour of the royal gardens tomorrow, I believe I would have known then. With this, I’m afraid it’s canceled?” He chuckled, nervously, trying to act normal. “I’ve only been in Theed for two days.”

“Yes, I know. The background checks here are rather thorough,” she admitted.

“Now I’m embarrassed you know the name of my first pet,” he quipped. She laughed slightly.

“I think we can definitely arrange for you to have a private tour of the gardens. They are in my home, after all.”

“Mum said they were beautiful, so I was really looking forward,” he smirked. “I did save your life,” he pointed out. “It’s the least you could do,” he grinned.

“And compensate you for the expenses you might have lost on my account,” she added.

“I don’t want any compensation. The only ruined thing was my t-shirt and it wasn’t that expensive, so I’m not really concerned,” Anakin shrugged and winced as the pain shot up his arm. “Everything else is intact. I think… your security team has yet to return my wallet and my phone.”

“I’ll see about getting them back as soon as possible, I’m sure your mother’s quite worried.” She tucked her hair behind her ears with both hands.

He nodded. “If I don’t call her, she will be. I will avoid telling her that I almost got shot, though, that’s a detail she will live without just fine.”

“She might have already seen it on television, you did prevent a crisis. And everyone has a camera on their phones these days,” Padmé pointed out.

Anakin immediately paled, the idea that his picture was running around the world less than appealing to him. He hesitated as he glanced across the room, looking for something else to focus on. “I… I didn’t give it much thought. Until now. Hmm, that’s… uncalled for, though, couldn’t I be just an anonymous hero or something?” He forced a smile.

“I’ll have the right people look into it. Your name definitely hasn’t been released yet, seeing as we only  _ just _ cleared you of any implications in the attempt on my life.”

“Oh,” his shoulders immediately relaxed. “That… that would be nice. Yes. Thank you.  _ That  _ can be my compensation if you want.”

“Perhaps. But my royal authority does not extend to the entirety of the Internet. If you are on Tumblr, I can’t help you.”

He barked a laugh at that. Wasn’t Ahsoka obsessed with that website? “Well, I’ll appreciate any help you might provide. Public life… really isn’t my thing.”

“Nor mine, but I was born into it,” she giggled softly. “I don’t really have a choice, but I do have an entire network of agencies that help me have some semblance of privacy. Sometimes whether I want it or not.”

“It can’t be easy,” he said softly. 

“It is what it is, and I know I’m very fortunate to have been born into such a position. I try to make the most of it.”

He nodded understandingly. “I’m glad I was able to make sure you kept doing your best.”

“Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable while you’re here?” she asked, reaching over to take his hand.

An electrical current went through his nervous system and he widened his eyes as he stuttered for a few moments, before closing his eyes and mouth, and shaking his head. “No. Nope. Nothing. I just… you know, I’m fine.”

“If you change your mind, tell your nurse. She has orders from me to give you anything you want.”

“You’re going to spoil me, your Highness,” he teased, softly removing his hand from hers, all of his senses on red alert, but still trying not to offend her.

“Some would say I owe you a life debt, Mr. Skywalker. Some decent food and extra blankets are the least I can do.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek as she stood up. “Again, thank you. I’ll let you rest now.”

_ She needs to stop touching me…  _ “Yes. Yes, thank you. Hmm, I’ll rest. Thank you for coming over. To check on me.” He sounded like a babbling idiot and all because she was touching and kissing him and his body was reacting  _ way  _ too much.

Smiling so beautifully she might as well have been an angel, Padmé gave him a little curtsy and then left the room. He fell against the pillows with a deep sigh.  _ What was that feeling? _

* * *

 

“Are you sure, Sheev, that this boy is Luc’s son?” A man well into his fifties, with greying hair and beard, sat opposite of the Chancellor, in a very regal and cold manner, his blue eyes inquisitive. 

“The mother is Shmi Skywalker,” Palpatine growled, looking at his half-brother over the brandy he was sipping. His other hand tapped the report from the Royal Security Forces. “And he  _ looks _ like my son, Dooku. The age aligns with the time of Lucien’s death. The hospital records say their blood types match, and I have someone working right now to get a sample for a full DNA test.”

“Then it’s entirely possible that fate has provided you a second chance.” Dooku drummed his fingers over the armrest. “Do you think he knows who you are?”

“I doubt it. Considering who his mother is…”

“Will you tell him the truth? You are in your right to do so. After what happened to Luc, Shmi was wrong to keep your grandchild hidden,” Dooku curled his lips in distaste.

“Yes, but suppose she did fill his head with slander about me, just as she did with Lucien? This must be done delicately.”

“You should call the boy over. Thank him for saving our dearest Princess’ life. Maybe a position he can’t refuse, here in Theed. Keep him close.” Dooku suggested. 

“Perhaps.”

“I can enlist Qui-Gon’s help if you wish.”

“If you think he can be trusted with such a mission, I trust your discretion. No mistakes, brother.”

Dooku stood, buttoning his suit and straightening it. “I know exactly what to tell him. You know how much he cherished his cousin. To give him the chance to be there for his nephew would be something he could never refuse.” He nodded at his half-brother. “We'll keep in touch.”


	2. Change My Priorities

The next morning, Anakin was finally discharged. His bicep was numb and he didn’t have a lot of strength in his right arm, but the doctor assured him that if he took his medication right, within two or three weeks he would have regained his usual strength. For now, he had to keep himself from overdoing it with his right arm, meaning no heavy loads, no backpacks, nothing that weighted more than a few bills. Anakin assured he would follow his instructions and was more than ready to get back to his hotel and freshened up.

He had a long conversation with his mother, who had heard about the commotion in Theed, but he was glad to know that no names had been released and pictures were blurry and that the ‘hero’ that have saved Princess Padmé was mostly hidden behind the bodyguards that swarmed around the royal after the attempt. He breathed a sigh of relief for that and maybe the Princess had pulled a few strings to keep his name out of the tabloids as she’d promised. He promised his mother he would be careful and yes, he would come home in one piece and hung up.

Thinking about the Princess, made him think about what he felt when she touched him. Anakin had never felt that electricity before with a woman. He didn’t have a lot of experience dating. Most of his time was consumed by studying. After all, to be the youngest student to complete a Phd. at twenty-one, came with its share of hard work. It helped that he was an engineering prodigy and entered Cambridge at fifteen. Still, a lot of his time was spent in the robotics laboratory and his dating life was very scarce. What he felt when the Princess kissed his cheek or took his hand could be normal and he could be an amateur thinking it was special.

She hadn’t look affected, so he truly believed it had been nothing.

“Anakin Skywalker?”

He jumped. After the afternoon of the previous day, he had reasons to be jumpy. When he turned around, he found a middle-aged man standing in the door of his hospital room. His light, blonde hair was long and pulled back in a sleek ponytail and the curious blue eyes were inspecting him. Anakin shifted uncomfortably. “Who wants to know?”

The man smiled at him almost… fondly. Anakin raised one eyebrow at that. “I’m Qui-Gon Jinn. I am with the Princess’s personal detail from the Royal Security Forces.”

“Did the Princess send you?” Anakin asked curiously.

“We spoke, yes, she showed her interested in having you escorted back to the hotel unseen and unbothered. I promised her I would make sure that happened. But I am really here in behalf of Chancellor Palpatine, he would like to give you a private word.”

“The Chancellor?” Anakin frowned. Qui-Gon nodded slowly. A flash of displeasure crossed his eyes, but it was for a brief second so Anakin believed he had imagined it. “The Princess has already expressed her gratitude if this is what the private word is about.”

“You saved our future Queen’s life, Anakin, you should be rewarded,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “The Chancellor has the means to do so.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. I didn’t do it for money, fame or whatever you want to offer. I really just acted on instinct—”

“A very good instinct.”

“—I didn't even know who she was.”

“Anakin, I won’t force you to attend this meeting but the Chancellor is... persuasive. He wants to do his part and thank you. It’s one more handshake. It will be quick and you’ll be in your hotel before lunch,” Qui-Gon promised.

He sighed and leaned against the bed. “What if I say no?”

“He’ll keep insisting,” the older man pursed his lips. “My advice is to attend this meeting and be free from it as soon as possible.”

Anakin nodded, thoughtfully. “I don’t know why, but I do feel like I can trust you, Mr. Jinn.”

“Please, do call me Qui-Gon,” he beamed. “Come, Anakin, I have a car ready for us.”

* * *

 “I don’t understand why you’re being so cagey.”

“Until such time as I’m satisfied with the sweep of your room,” Sabé said, only half looking at Padmé as she scrolled through notes on her tablet, “I want to say as little as possible. We were the only ones who knew you were going out, Princess. Therefore it stands to reason that your suite has been compromised.”

Padmé pursed her lips as the news sank in. “So this goes deeper than we thought. Have you questioned the staff?”

“I have someone working on it.”

“I really would feel more comfortable if you did it personally, Sabé.”

“There are only so many hours in the day, Princess. I have to delegate _some_ things to other people,” her confidante reminded her.

“And Anakin?” She’d promised him a tour of the gardens, and she wanted to make good on that promise.

“I’m sure you’ll see him before he makes his departure,” Sabé reassured her, then stopped for a moment, looking up at her with a squint. “You should be practical about this. Don’t go attaching yourself to him unnecessarily just because he saved your life.”

“I’m merely concerned,” Padmé protested irritably. “He’s a private person, he doesn’t need the pressure that comes from being involved in something like this. I owe him as much protection as possible from those vultures.”

“Your compassion might well be the thing that gets you killed someday. Given enough time.”

“Sometimes it baffles me how the two of us are friends.” With a sigh, Padmé settled back into the armchair, flipping the dog-eared pages of her copy of _The Epic of Set and Veré._ “Is there a single bone in your body not imbued with cynicism?”

“My cynicism keeps you alive. Yesterday notwithstanding.”

“That’s a rather large omission,” Padmé teased dryly, and Sabé scowled in response. “You can tell me it’s in poor taste to make fun of an attempt on my life, but I refuse to let it drag my spirits down. If I do that, am I not giving in to what they want? Living in fear?”

“That attitude is all well and good for someone who is not the heir to a throne. Why is it I have to lecture you about this? You’ve been the heir for ten years, you know what is required of you.”

“Everything I have is for the people of Naboo,” Padmé replied coolly. “But I will not surrender that which makes me who I am.”

Sabé sighed, shaking her head. “I simply hope we can keep you from getting killed for it.”

* * *

The Palpatine estate was big, on par with some of the larger estates Anakin had seen growing up in London, with a wrought-iron gate and yellow stucco walls surrounding the property. Qui-Gon drove them through the gates onto a gravel drive, stopping in front of a grand set of doors where an old man, presumably the Chancellor, stood waiting. He didn’t look much different from most other politicians, with a time-worn face framed by blond hair that was both receding and fading into grey, and a dark suit impeccably tailored to his old frame. “My dear young friend,” he said, smiling widely as he stepped down to open the car door, “welcome.”

Anakin had a feeling he met him before, it was familiar. “Thank you for receiving me, Chancellor,” he said politely. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you,” Palpatine continued to smile, and there was an odd sort of glint in his eyes. “Would you like a tour of the grounds, or shall we go inside to talk more privately?” He moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

He was surprised by how warmth the Chancellor was being towards him and a part of him found it weird, but he wasn’t going to complain about it, it would be unbecoming. “I would prefer to speak privately, Chancellor, if you don’t mind. I was discharged this morning and would like to return to my hotel to rest for a while.”

“Of course, of course,” Palpatine led him back up the stairs and into the grand house. Anakin’s eyes were immediately assaulted by a _lot_ of red and black décor. It was almost creepy, even as Palpatine moved towards a sitting room with tall windows that let in a lot of light. If this had been a movie, Anakin might have been expecting Dracula to show up at any moment. “My nephew didn’t indulge in his more reckless driving habits, did he?” Palpatine asked as he took a seat in one of the larger armed chairs.

“I actually think he was going a bit slow,” Anakin quipped as he sat opposite of the older man and Qui-Gon snorted as he entered the house and closed the door behind the three of them. “I enjoy driving as well and my mother tends to complain I drive a little too fast for her liking.”

“Naturally.” Palpatine opened the globe next to his chair, taking out two glasses and a crystal bottle with an amber liquid inside. “A child is precious after all, to lose one is a special kind of torment.”

“You seem to speak from experience,” Anakin said quietly, shifting uncomfortably. He remembers the way his mother acted when he had his first car accident. She was yelling and crying and asking him if he wanted to end up dead like his father and Anakin had been especially careful after that particular scene. “Oh, and not for me, thank you. I am taking medication, after all, I shouldn’t drink alcohol.”

“Yes, of course, my apologies, dear boy.” Palpatine returned the bottle to the globe after filling his own glass. “Something else, perhaps?”

“Juice. Or water. Whatever’s easier,” he replied, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

“I’ll get the staff on it,” Qui-Gon said, disappearing deeper into the mansion.

“To address your earlier observation, Anakin, you’re correct. I did have a son once, long ago. But I lost him, and it has haunted me ever since.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, Chancellor. I can’t… imagine the pain you must have felt.” He felt awkward and looked around. “You live here all by yourself? It’s quite the big property.”

“I have my brother with me. Well, half-brother. We shared a mother,” Palpatine explained. “But it’s just as much a matter of appearances. I am the highest ranking member of Parliament, a large estate is practically necessary.” A man in a black suit appeared through a panel in the wall, carrying a large pitcher of water that he used to fill Anakin’s glass before disappearing back the way he’d come.

“Chancellor, if this meeting was to thank me for saving the Princess’s life, it’s not necessary, she has thanked me in person and that’s enough, really,” he said and took a sip of his water.

“You’re too modest, my boy. Granted, this hasn’t happened often, but in the past, such feats of heroism were rewarded richly. Often with a position in the royal household.”

Anakin set his glass down slowly. “A position in the royal household? Chancellor, I can guarantee you that I am not suitable and I am not interested either, I do have a life in London.”

“It’s technically not my domain to offer so much as it is the King’s, but I can promise you, the King _will_ want to reward you somehow, the Princess is quite beloved by everyone in this nation, especially her family. Recognition for your heroic act is practically inevitable.”

“I don’t need it. I really don’t. I didn’t do it for recognition, Chancellor, I did it to save a girl’s life and while I am very grateful of the way I’ve been treated by all so far - with the exception of Mr. Typho, who I believe still finds me a guilty party - I would like to go back home and start my job at Cambridge.” Anakin explained. He didn’t want a place in the royal household, what would he even do, and he most definitely didn’t want a public revealing that he, somehow, became Naboo’s hero by saving their beloved Princess. It sounded like a fairytale and he was sure he didn’t want to become part of that story.

“The Captain lost his eye in defense of the Lady Sola, he treats his new charge very seriously as a result,” Palpatine explained. “This kind of publicity will not go away any time soon, Anakin, especially not with the Internet preserving everything so completely these days. Unfortunately, normal might never again be an option for you.”

“My Lord Chancellor, there’s no need to overwhelm him with so much,” Qui-Gon spoke up from the doorway. “I think the Princess would say you’ve more than done your duty. Perhaps this is a discussion to resume at a later point.”

Honestly, Anakin was thankful for the man’s interruption. He was starting to feel overwhelmed with the weight of some unknown responsibility placed on his shoulders. “I don’t think anything needs to be resumed later. I am flying to London in two days’ time and that is where I want to be. I will the trust the Princess’s word that she’ll do her best to keep my name off of any tabloids and I will pray the pictures are blurry enough.” He stood, with a polite smile. “I am thankful for the attention, Chancellor, but I think I should be going.”

“My door is always open, Anakin, don’t hesitate to reach out to me for anything,” Palpatine said reassuringly, even as Qui-Gon made to open the door for Anakin. “Anything at all. I would _so_ like to get to know you better.”

“Next time I visit, I’ll try to be in touch,” Anakin promised, not even knowing why exactly, he just didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you for the invitation, Chancellor. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

As they stepped outside, Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder. “My uncle is rather intense, I should have warned you beforehand. I’m sorry.”

“I think everyone is intense after what happened yesterday, you don’t need to apologize,” Anakin waved off his concerns. “Correct me if I am wrong, he did seem to hold me in higher regard than I deserve. Is he very close to the Princess?”

Qui-Gon opened the door of the car, still parked in front of the house with pursed lips. “They work together quite frequently. The Chancellor is the leader of Parliament, the liaison between the people’s elected officials and the Royal Family. And since the Princess will be Queen someday, their interactions are inevitable as she prepares for her eventual ascension.”

“That was not the close I was asking. More in a fraternal way. But it might be just my imagination,” he sighed and entered the car.

Qui-Gon sat in the driver’s seat, turning the wheel so that they were angled towards the gate. “There are multiple forces in play here, Anakin. The Chancellor did not ask you here to thank you, he wanted to take a look at you in person. To confirm the suspicions he has about you.”

The car started moving forward, and Anakin tensed. “Qui-Gon, does your parliament and security team still believe I have anything to do with the attempt on the Princess’s life?” he asked irritably. “I went through a very bitter interrogation yesterday to dismiss those allegations already.”

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Qui-Gon’s voice became even softer as he looked at Anakin through the rearview mirror before returning his gaze to the road. “I was speaking of the suspicions he holds in regards to your paternity.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows and stared at Qui-Gon. He never knew his father. He had died before he was born. Shmi had told him bits and pieces about the man that fathered him and he knew his name was Luc and he was a pilot. Other than that, Anakin was aware he looked like him and even had some of his most worrying habits, like driving too fast and Shmi often expressed her relief that Anakin decided to take engineering and not piloting as his career path. She dramatically pointed out she wouldn’t have survived if her son decided to put himself in the skies like his father, and disappeared as quickly as he did too.

“My cousin Lucien—those of us who were close to him called him Luc— he spent a year in London, at working at our Embassy, and when he came back, it was with this lovely woman he’d met there. Shmi Skywalker. They were making plans that my uncle didn’t necessarily approve of.”

In the backseat, Anakin froze, staring wide-eyed at Qui-Gon. “That’s…” he shook his head, a very dull headache starting to throb at his temples. “Shmi Skywalker is my mother and she did mention my father’s name was Luc. Never once she told me where he came from, or who he was,” he said quietly. He needed to have a serious conversation with his mother when he returned. “You are trying to tell me that the Chancellor might be my grandfather?”

“He might be. He certainly seems to believe it. And that complicates matters for all of us, I’m afraid.”

“This is an impossible coincidence,” obviously, the younger man had opted for the denial. “My mother and I never had anything to do with Naboo. It might be another Shmi Skywalker, it’s not a unique name,” he never heard anyone else with that name or surname, but there were over seven billion people in the world, he was sure he was probably right. “I don’t think I am your nephew, Qui-Gon. It’s just not possible.”

“If you are Luc’s son, I am glad that a part of him remains alive in this world, and if you are not, it doesn’t matter,” Qui-Gon warned him grimly. “If the Princess’s suspicions are right, my uncle was taking action even without knowing you existed. What you saw of him today, Anakin, might well be a show. We’re investigating the possibility that the assassination attempt on her Highness might have been ordered by the Chancellor.”

Anakin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. “With all due respect, Qui-Gon, I don’t think I should know about your or the Princess’s suspicions. It doesn’t concern me because one, I think I might take an early flight to London and two, I am not who your uncle believes I am. I came to Naboo to celebrate my graduation with a little time off to myself and since I arrived, I didn’t have as nearly as much fun as I would have hoped, almost got shot and now I’m being pulled into a thriller novel.” He was frustrated and that was palpable. His muscles were tense, his jaw was set and his eyes had darkened. “If you could, please, drop me at my hotel, I would appreciate it.”

“I can’t do that.” They turned onto a road Anakin could vaguely recognize, one that ran past the part of the city he’d been touring yesterday. “I have orders to take you somewhere else first.”

“Brilliant, now you’re kidnapping me,” he said dryly, slouching in the seat.

“Kidnapping implies malicious intents. This is more of a detour.”

“What else is there to happen to me in this country?” He muttered miserably.

“A promise that needs keeping.” The old quarter of Theed began to fade from view, replaced by more modern architecture, and the road began to widen. Straight ahead was the blue-domed outline of Theed Royal Palace. “The Princess said she owes you a tour of the gardens.”

It was if the dark cloud above his head lifted and Anakin beamed at that. “You could have just said that, you know?” He chuckled. “I didn’t give it much thought, I thought it was one of those empty promises you made just because of the moment. This is… nice. It doesn’t look like I’m meeting Dracula, at least.”

“I will be sure to pass along the compliment,” Qui-Gon laughed as the car pulled into a gatehouse in front of the palace walls. He passed something through the open window, speaking in Italian to the guard. “ _Ho portato Anakin Skywalker per la principessa._ ”

“ _Tutto bene. Puoi entrare,”_ the woman confirmed, and the shiny metal barricade parted, letting them drive into a massive courtyard decorated with glittering blue fountains, gleaming stone statues, and flawlessly trimmed topiary.

“You might want to take a few deep breaths,” Qui-Gon suggested with a smile.

Anakin nodded and smiled, taking a deep breath and waited for Qui-Gon to stop the car. When he did, he opened the door himself. “Thank you, Qui-Gon,” he hesitated before he exited the car. “I’m sorry I can’t be who you want me to be.” Then, he left, leaving Qui-Gon sighing in his seat, knowing that maybe he had come on too strong and probably scared the man.

The courtyard seemed unreal and Anakin felt he had entered some magical land. He looked around, mesmerized by the scenario. “Good morning.” A voice he somehow already recognized came from the terrace just above him. The Princess was leaning over the stone rail, looking down at him with a smile. “Are you feeling better?”

He beamed at her. The Princess looked beautiful and with the way the sunlight was reflecting on the stone around her and the white dress she was wearing, she looked ethereal, like an Angel. “Much better, thank you,” he replied. “Your home is lovely, your highness.”

“You should see the inside.” She made her way across the terrace and down the steps to him. “And the actual gardens.”

“The courtyard has set the bar incredibly high,” he raised his eyebrows watching her descend the steps. “Should I bow?” He wondered out loud. “It’s incredible that I don’t know, I come from a country with a Queen,” he snickered.

“This is not a state visit, and I’m not in the mood for formalities,” she said dryly, gesturing for him to follow him across the cobblestones toward one of the arched doorways. “Not when I’ve essentially been placed under house arrest.”

He followed her a few steps behind. “Hmm. It’s understandable after what almost happened yesterday.”

“Oh, wonderful, you’re taking my father’s side,” she sighed dramatically, slowing her pace to match his.

“I am not taking anyone’s side but I’ve already understood how important you are to this country and protecting you is their priority right now, you could have died.”

“Even so, there are ways of protecting me without regressing to the standards of fairy-tales,” she countered. “Do they make such a fuss for your Prince William?”

“I can’t really say, I am not in Buckingham Palace to observe their security teams in action, but I know they go to extra lengths for the family’s protection whenever they go out. One time, he came to Cambridge and it was madness. I was felt up by three policemen on my way to campus,” he rolled his eyes.

“It sounds awful.” The way her eyes sparkled told him she was being playful. “But I suppose the situations are not quite the same. England would not be without an heir, were something to happen to him, God forbid.” She pushed open an iron gate in the archway, then offered her hand to Anakin. “Come on, the gardens are through here.”

“Though, George would not that excited to be King,” he snorted and accepted her hand after a moment’s hesitation and the same spark that ran through him the night before, was there and he tensed for a moment. “After you,” he whispered, mesmerized by how her stunning brown eyes looked at him.

“ _Vous ne suivez pas très bien votre propre famille royale, n'est-ce pas?_ ” she murmured in amusement as she pulled him inside and shut the gate behind them. “ _Et voilà,_ the Royal Gardens. You’re lucky, really, the rest of the tours were canceled after yesterday. Papa didn’t want more people than absolutely necessary on the grounds, but I did make you a promise, and I keep my promises.”

“ _J'occupe mon esprit avec d'autres pensées_ ,” he replied in flawed French with a raised eyebrow. “These are impressive,” he whispered looking around. “I could spend my days living here and I would be _very_ happy.”

“It’s my second favorite place in the world,” Padmé agreed, trailing her free hand along a rose bush.

“What is your first, if I’m allowed to ask, your Highness?” Anakin asked, smiling at her.

“Our lakeside estate, Varykino. That’s actually where I was born,” she answered, separating their hands so that she could bend down next to a water feature where a cluster of lotus flowers was blooming. “And please, you can call me Padmé.”

“I will… Padmé,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue in such an easy, delicate way. “Do you frequently visit Varykino?”

“Not as much as I want to, since becoming Princess of Theed,” she admitted, pulling one of the lotus blossoms from the water and spinning it between her fingers. “But I’m sure there are a lot of other things you’d like to ask me about. This is still a tour, is it not?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Your name, for example. Is uncommon but still, it matches you and this country so well. Can I know its origins?” He touched the petals of a bright, red rose nearby, enjoying the smooth feeling beneath his fingers.

Padmé giggled a little, clearly not having expected that as his first question. “It’s actually a French modification of Padma. _Lotus_ in Sanskrit. My mother had taken a holiday at Varykino a month before I was due. Some peace and quiet before the madness of having a child. The ambassador from India at the time, Onaconda Farr— my sister and I call him Uncle Ono— came to visit her, and he’d brought a bouquet with lotus blossoms in it. My mother leaned in to smell them and sneezed. And then her water broke.” She paused to laugh a little. “Needless to say, things got rather chaotic from there, but when it was all done and I was in my mother’s arms, Uncle Ono joked that I had wanted to see the lotuses very badly, and said that they were my lucky flower. So Mother decided to honor that and named me Padmé.”

Anakin laughed, amused. The story was adorable. _She is adorable._ He tilted his head to watch her. Her long, brown and curly hair that framed her perfect, petite features and her large, doe eyes that had mesmerized him from the beginning. “That’s a beautiful story. No wonder there are so many lotus flowers here. They’re here to match their favorite royal.”

“There are other flowers too. The ryoo blossoms that are native to the region, my older niece is named for those,” she said, moving further down the path to a marble statue of a man and a woman in a tight embrace. “And is there a story for Anakin, or was it simply a name your parents liked?”

“Hmm,” Anakin gazed at the statue. “It means warrior. I don’t have a cute story like yours, my apologies. My mother decided on my name because I was her little warrior that gave her the strength to overcome my father’s death. He passed away in a plane crash before either of them knew I existed.”

“After yesterday, it seems even more appropriate,” remarked Padmé. “You’re very brave.”

“I like to believe anyone would have done it, if they were in my position,” Anakin shook his head. “I’m just an engineer from London,” he shrugged.

“I don’t think anyone is ‘just’ something,” she countered. “Naboo’s first monarchs were a gladiator and the daughter of a Roman Senator.”

“Are they the ones portrayed in stone?” He nodded at the statue. “What’s their story?”

“Set and Veré,” she confirmed. “They were secret lovers in the last days of Rome. When the Visigoth raids started, Veré broke the locks on the _ludus_ and she and Set led anyone who would follow them out of the city until they came to the land that is Naboo now. They were elected King and Queen unanimously.”

“An epic love story, I see,” he smiled down at her. “Naboo has to be the most romantic country I have visited.”

“Tell no one, or we’ll be at war with France within the year,” she joked, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Possibly Italy too. They tend to dominate for romantic European tourism. My sister actually went to Portugal for her honeymoon to avoid the tourists.”

“France and Italy have nothing on you,” he laughed. “I love Portugal, very calm, great cuisine. You should take a page out of your sister’s book and go there sometime. They have these hidden paradises that are just to die for.”

“If I’m ever allowed outside the Palace again, I might do just that,” she said, pouting a little. “Come on, there’s quite a lot of gardens still to see.”

“I believe they will get whoever is behind your attack and you will be a free little bird very soon,” Anakin said apologetically. “People just want to protect you because they love you, you understand that, right?”

“I understand it, but I deeply dislike feeling useless. And that’s what I am right now. No one is telling me anything, I’m not allowed to go anywhere, I may as well be stuck in that labyrinth.” She pointed down the path, where a large hedge maze could be seen. “Except that’s a poor example since I know how to get out of that in an hour.”

He chuckled. “It won’t be forever, Padmé, and like the maze, you will learn how to deal with the twists and turns and get out of this fairly quickly,” he said reassuringly. “Although, I understand it might not be easy living your life, where all your steps are controlled and people put this extreme amount of pressure in your shoulders,” Anakin sighed. “I do not envy you, though, I wish there was something I could do to make it easier.”

She hesitated, sitting on a stone bench and looking up at him. “I enjoy your company. And your conversation. And I know you have to go back home soon, but if you are willing, I would like to continue the latter.”

Anakin nodded and sat down near her. “I don’t see a problem with that. I’ve been enjoying your company as well and if I can make this time any easier for you, then I will gladly do it. I will leave you with my private number, of course, and whenever you feel the need to talk, you can reach out to me.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers brushed against his hand, sending another wave of sparks through his nervous system. “I don’t have a lot of friends who are _just_ my friends.”

“Now you have one,” he whispered and squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “I have been told I am a great listener. Half of the reason my Professor invited me to be his assistant next school year,” he beamed.

“Do you want to stay for luncheon, or do you have to get back to your hotel?”

“I can stay, if you wish so,” Anakin nodded, still holding on to her hand. “I am returning to London tomorrow, so all I have left to do is pack what little I’ve brought over.”

“Come on, then,” she encouraged, standing up and tugging him with her. “You are going to get the best cuisine Naboo has to offer, mark my words. Have you had shuura fruit yet?”

“I haven’t, no,” he confirmed with a chuckle, letting himself be guided by her movements. “Is it any good?” He teased because, from her expression, he could definitely understand she loved it.

“Delicious,” Padmé promised. “Like if honey were a fruit.”

“I do have a sweet tooth, so I’m sure I will love it. What other traditional flavors should I try before I return to gloomy, old London?” He smiled.

“ _Everything,_ ” Padmé said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve had English food, you people have _no_ taste buds.”

He laughed. “Fish and chips are a delicacy that has to be thoroughly enjoyed! Granted, we don’t have traditional cuisine but we have a wide, multicultural environment to be absorbed by. Have you been to the M&M store? To London Bridge? To _Harrods?_ We have a lot more to offer than cuisine.”

“I’m a _princess_ , my visits to England are far more formal,” she pointed out, turning down the path towards a wooden door. “Mostly state visits with the Royal Family and such.”

“That’s…” He made a face. “Sad. There are so many wonderful, normal things to see in London. If you ever wish to escape your royal security and have a tour around town, let me know. Of course, your overbearing Typho will tackle me and put me in jail because he’ll try to accuse your kidnap on me, but I guess we can cross that bridge when we get there,” he joked.

“You’re making fun of me,” she accused as she expertly navigated their way through the corridors. “And you would _not_ be tackled. Typho isn’t as bad as you think.”

“Oh no, I would be too scared to make fun of a Princess,” he said teasingly. “He might be sweet towards you, you are his employer. To me? Well, he doesn’t seem to like me one bit.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not funny,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she pushed open one of the many doors. “Hello, Dex.”

“Princess!” A big burly American man laughed from behind a giant stovetop. “Still in one piece, I see.”

“Unless you plan to poison me today,” she quipped, taking a seat at the counter next to the stove. “But that’s why I brought my hero with me. Anakin Skywalker, our head chef, Dexter Jettster.”

“Lovely to meet you, Chef. The Princess has been raving about the cuisine of her country, she has my interest now,” he smirked, taking the seat next to her. “Raised my expectation very high.”

“I think that can be arranged.” As Dex turned away to start rummaging through the cabinets, Padmé looked over at Anakin.

“Something was bothering you when you got here. What happened?”

“You’ve noticed,” he murmured. “It was nothing, Padmé. Please don’t concern yourself with it.”

“A little late for that,” she countered. “You can trust me, I trust you with my life.”

“I know I did save your life yesterday, but isn’t that a bit dramatic?” Anakin beamed at her, trying to distract her.

“Anakin. Come on. I’ve been trained for politics, I know something is bothering you. Did Qui-Gon say something a bit too blunt? I should’ve sent someone else to pick you up, but he insisted.”

“I’ve met your Chancellor,” he blurted out, a part of him didn’t want to put Qui-Gon in trouble. “He wanted to offer me a position in your household. I politely refused and seriously, what is up with his Transylvania decoration?”

“According to my sister, he made those changes after his son died. I was too young to remember much at the time. Three, maybe four, but the general consensus in society was that once Lucien died, Palpatine lost the only thing that made him happy,” Padmé answered as Dex slid two glasses of golden liquid in front of them, and she paused to take a sip. “And he’s not entirely wrong, acts of heroism _were_ historically rewarded with a prestigious appointment to the Royal Security Forces, but that sort of thing hasn’t happened for _decades._ And it’s not the Chancellor’s prerogative.”

Anakin sighed as he looked down at his drink, biting the inside of his cheek. It was hard not to pour his heart out, especially when he didn’t have anyone else to vent to. He needed to speak with his mother, yes, but it would not be the same. “Qui-Gon is under the belief - and it’s silly, really, it is just a coincidence - that I am Lucien Palpatine’s son and that your Chancellor’s urgency in meeting me was to prove _something_.”

She groaned. “I told him not to say anything when we were still investigating.”

“You knew about the suspicions?” He wrinkled his nose.

“We’ve been keeping an eye on the Chancellor,” Padmé admitted. “I’ve been wary of him for a while, I know he doesn’t like me. I’m not as docile as he’d prefer.”

“I am not who the Chancellor and Qui-Gon want me to be,” Anakin repeated his earliest statement.

“And I don’t want you to be that either,” she insisted calmly. “I think Qui-Gon’s rather romanticized the idea of conspiracies and espionage. I blame your _James Bond_ books and stories.”

“Everyone loves James Bond, it’s our greatest heritage after Harry Potter,” he pointed out with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, muttering about Shakespeare and Jane Austen under her breath “In all honesty, Padmé, I enjoy your company and I am thrilled that I was able to have some small impact on your life, but I am not made for this sort of life of conspiracies, long lost grandchildren, and royal protocols, so I would like to be removed from whatever story Qui-Gon and the Chancellor would like to put me in. I return to London tomorrow and that will be it.”

“I understand. And I’ll do what I can to make that happen.”

“I am sorry that the Chancellor lost a son and I am sorry that Qui-Gon lost a cousin, a best friend. I am not their replacement.” He sipped his drink. Honey, but thinner. Shuura fruit, just like she’d said. “I wish them the best, hope they find some sort of light and that your investigation into the Chancellor helps you have some peace of mind.”

“Odd way to phrase it,” she chuckled.

“Like Shakespeare,” he teased with a chuckle. “Besides that, I will gladly be a friend for you to vent to.”

“I would like that,” Padmé replied, moving her hand so that Dex could place a steaming loaf of bread that somehow smelled like flowers in front of them. “Very much.”


	3. I'm Perfectly Fine

After Theed, landing in London had been a thermal shock for Anakin. He had gotten used to the not too hot and not too cold weather in Naboo and returning to the cold shivers and insistent rain of his hometown was disappointing. He also felt heavier. Supposedly, after a vacation, you should feel relaxed and ready to face whatever challenge life wants to throw at you, but all Anakin felt was a dire need of locking himself in his room, sleep and play videogames. The past forty-eight hours have been way too intense.

He retrieved his bag and once he turned to leave the airport, he stopped and a smiled blossomed in his face. Standing there, with a light blue poster with his name written is dark, blue glitter and red hearts surrounding it, was Ahsoka Tano, the fifteen-year-old pupil he had been tutoring for three years now. Next to her, his mother beamed at him, an immediate relief washing over her.

“Skyguy!” Ashoka chirped, waving that poster in the air. She was acting like he had left them for months, not for days.

Shaking his head, he chuckled and rushed forward to meet them both. The first one to throw herself in his arms was Shmi. Anakin smiled and hugged his mother close. He returned from Theed with a lot of questions for her, but he didn’t want to disrupt that smile in her face so he would wait for the right moment.

“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mum,” he replied.

“My turn, my turn,” Ahsoka jumped up and down next to them and Anakin chuckled. Shmi pulled back, gently caressing his cheek before Ahsoka pounced on him, hugging his neck. Anakin had a feeling he had now blue glitter all over his clothes. “Did you bring me a gift?”

He barked a laugh. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered squeezing her a little before letting her go. “Was I supposed to?”

“Well, duh, Skyguy, of course you were,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes and pulled back. She had a mischievous glint in her midnight eyes. “You promised.”

“I guess we’ll see when I unpack, won’t we?”

Ahsoka pouted and Anakin wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a teasing smile.

“I have made your favorite for dinner,” Shmi said as they exited the airport. 

“Yes, and Plo is picking me up after dessert, so you can tell me all about Theed, and show me the pictures, and of course, give me my gift,” Ahsoka stated matter of fact, mentioning her Uncle and guardian. They were neighbors and Anakin has known her since a little five-year-old Ahsoka was brought to Plo Koon’s door, after his sister and brother-in-law’s tragic death that left their only daughter an orphan. When little Ahsoka started to struggle in school, Plo enlisted his help and they’ve been inseparable ever since. “I heard they had a Princess, did you meet her? Oh, did you two fall in love?”

“This is not a cheesy, badly written, Hallmark romcom,” Anakin teased her.

“There was an attempt on the Princess’s life,” Shmi started slowly and Anakin masked his expression into a neutral one. “It was in the middle of one of the main streets of Theed.”

“I heard about it. The security was very intense after that,” Anakin replied as he busied himself with placing his bags in the trunk of the car. “I heard she was saved and that is what matters.”

“By someone that was not part of her security team. A regular Joe,” Ahsoka quipped. “That’s the start of a very good, romcom movie. The guy saves the Princess, they look deeply into each other’s eyes and they fall in love,” she continued dreamily while Anakin raised his eyebrows at her. “Then life throws challenges at them, back and forth and they struggle to be together and then her life is  _ too  _ much and he’s overwhelmed, but he loves her too much to leave her and…”

“Alright, Shakespeare, get in the car,” Anakin interrupted her daydreaming as his mother handed him the keys with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle. “You watch too many movies for your own good.”

* * *

 

Without Ahsoka’s constant energy, the Skywalker household was quiet as mother and son finished tidying up the kitchen. Shmi washed the dishes while Anakin dried them, leaning casually against the counter, legs crossed at his ankles.

“I’m happy you enjoyed your time in Theed,” Shmi said as she handed him a plate.

Anakin nodded. “Yes, it was beautiful, I was glad that I took your advice,” he said quietly as he cleaned the dish, thinking about his next words. “I don’t know if I had asked you before, but had you been there before? I mean, you did speak highly of it and you did seem to know all about the things I was telling Ahsoka.”

“I was there only a little longer than you were, but it was,” Shmi paused as she considered her own choice of words. “Memorable.”

“You went there with my father?” He asked casually.

She turned to look at him with an expression that could not be anything other than guilt. “How did you know?”

“It was an educated guess,” he whispered. “Mum, tell me about him. Who he was. What he did. Did he have family?” Anakin looked down at the glass he was drying and frowned.

“None that mattered,” Shmi said rather coolly. “Your father wanted to make his own choices, find his own path, and his family didn’t agree with that. They cut ties shortly before he died.”

Anakin frowned but felt it was not right to push his mother for more answers. Clearly, Shmi was uncomfortable speaking about it and it was wrong of him to put that pressure on her shoulders and it was also unfair. She had given him everything she could and he was not going to let Qui-Gon’s words or the Chancellor’s actions rule him. 

“I understand, Mum, sorry I pushed the subject,” he set the last dish down and kissed her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ani. More than anything.”

* * *

 

Working as a Teacher’s Assistant to Professor Kenobi was something Anakin always knew could not be taken lightly. He had looked up to Obi-Wan Kenobi long before he set one foot in Cambridge and having the man himself take him under his wing, was heaven sent. Yet, Anakin reached the last hour of his first day of work completely and utterly, exhausted. Obi-Wan had entrusted him with the first couple of lectures, surprising him. He had a plan for the class, of course, but he thought he was assisting, not conducting it. After the beginner’s nerves disappeared and he settled into the teacher routine, following Obi-Wan around Campus after classes, Anakin was ready to call it a day. He sat behind his desk in Obi-Wan’s office and rubbed his hand across his face, sipping on hot coffee. He could sleep right on that couch, if Obi-Wan wouldn’t kick him out, saying sleeping on the job was like cheating on your wife. 

He tended to be very dramatic.

“You can’t still claim to be exhausted by your holiday, we’re only a week into the term,” Obi-Wan scolded as he entered the small space with a stack of books in his arms. “Stop looking at my sofa like that.”

“It looks really comfy,” Anakin nodded his head. “It’s your fault, you bought it,” he sighed. “I am not exhausted by my holiday. I’m just getting used to,” he waved a hand around, “all of this. Give me a moment to catch my breath.”

“Does all of this include the fact that nearly all of our female students have developed an infatuation with you?” his boss teased, setting down the books on the desk.

Anakin made a face. “Ahsoka did tease me I would be the walking teacher’s fantasy of every female student,” he muttered. “I don’t like the attention that much. It’s not like you can talk, you know, I remember a couple of students that tried to win your heart,” he raised his eyebrows. “Male and female,” he smirked. 

“Not in the same level of droves you seem to be attracting.”

“Ah, you are just jealous that you won’t be the Sexiest Professor any longer. Students keep yearly lists, you know?” Anakin chuckled.

“Anakin, focus, I don’t pay you to be eye candy. I pay you to help me teach.”

“I hit a nerve,” he mused and stood up. “Alright, boss, what do you need me to do?” He clapped his hands, looking around.

“I need you to make sure we have all the proper reservations for our first lab in two weeks. And for you to start culling homework assignments for possible questions when we have our midterm.”

Anakin’s phone vibrated at that moment, displaying three letters from an unknown number.

**_??: »QDN?_ **

“Hmm, consider both of those done,” he answered distractedly. “I can go home, right?” He lifted his eyes, long enough to glance at the older teacher.

“If you think the couch won’t be jealous of your bed,” Obi-Wan answered dryly. “I assume that’s what’s calling you?”

“Tell the couch I’ll turn it into my mistress sooner rather than later,” he slapped the other man’s shoulder before grabbing his laptop bag and hurrying off. Safely off the hearing range of his boss, Anakin brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He asked quietly.

“Anakin?” The voice of the Princess came through the other end loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I should have signed the text.”

“Padmé?” He asked surprised halting his steps for a few moments. A feeling of… relief? Happiness?  _ Something  _ washed over him and made him smile from ear to ear. “No, no, it’s not a problem. I’m happy to hear your voice. How are you?”

“Still under house arrest,” she complained. “I can’t even sit in on the Parliamentary sessions, I have to watch on the television!”

“I am sorry, it must be frustrating,” he sighed as he crossed the campus until the car park. “Have you kept yourself occupied with something to distract your mind?”

“Besides debating about whether or not I should call you, you mean?”

Anakin smiled to himself. “I told you, Padmé, you could call me anytime. You didn’t have to debate that.”

“With lack of a better opponent, I had no one to debate but myself,” she laughed. “I am not a very exciting person when you take away my mobility. I’m not sure if I’m an interesting person at all.”

“Now  _ that  _ I am unable to believe,” he scoffed as he unlocked his car and placed his bag on the backseat, before climbing into the driver’s seat. “How can someone like you be anything  _ but  _ interesting?”

“If I weren’t a princess, would you still say that?” she countered.

“For your information,  _ yes, _ I would,” Anakin quipped as he connected his phone to his Bluetooth. “You are a woman involved in politics. Wanting to make the world we live in a better place. That I realized from the small amount of time we spent together, imagine if we had had more time to know each other? My arguments would be through the roof.”

“You’re very kind to say so,” she sighed wistfully. “I don’t know how much I agree with you, but it’s kind, all the same. But tell me more about  _ you,  _ Anakin. Having a background check file is not the same as knowing a person. Tell me about London. What you’ve been up to. Your family. Anything.”

“Lucky you, I’m stuck in traffic,” he chuckled. “London is…” he looked outside his window. “Cold. Rainy. Sometimes, depressing. But you know, it pales in comparison to our lovely, charming and magnetic accent,” he teased lightly.

“I don’t know if I’d use those exact words to describe your accent.”

“You offend me, my lady, how do you describe my accent then?”

“ _ Seducente, _ ” she answered in Italian, too quickly for him to fully catch the word. “But then, there are so many varieties of accents in your country, it’s rather maddening. I’m just grateful you’re not from Wales.”

“Hmph, I didn’t get that word but you’ll tell me one day and I know, I thank God every day for that too,” he shook his head, smiling, happy he could distract her with something. “I’ve actually just finished work. I’m a Teacher’s aide of one of the top teachers at Cambridge and it has been a whirlwind all week.”

“Teaching what?”

“Computer Engineering and Robotics. My PhD field.”

“Sounds fascinating. You’re not making full robots, are you?”

“I did, but it was to help enforce my thesis idea about artificial intelligence,” he replied. 

“So, I should blame you if they rise up and kill us all.”

“Oh, you’re one of  _ those  _ believers,” he chuckled. “Relax, it was only one and it’s the most dutiful droid you will find in Cambridge’s robotics labs.”

“We prepare for every contingency. Even ones that are relics of science fiction.”

“Let me guess, you have a protection plan in place for a zombie apocalypse?” He teased.

“And alien invasion,” she confirmed lightly. “ _ Every _ contingency.”

“Independence Day must be your favorite movie,” he quipped. “With a side dish of Walking Dead reruns.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re right. I imagine you are more of a  _ Sound of Music  _ enthusiast?”

“Actually, I’m more interested in documentaries. Although right now, things feel rather reminiscent of  _ Frozen, _ if you were to talk to my nieces.”

“Give them time, they’ll be in their Taylor Swift teens in no time,” Anakin replied, remembering he promised Ahsoka he would escort her to the goddamn stadium concert. “Trust me, that is not a pretty stage.”

“I would hope my sister has more taste than that. And that Ms. Swift will no longer be popular when my nieces are old enough,” Padmé sighed. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

“Yes. I have this teenager, a neighbor of mine, and I’ve been her tutor since she was like… eleven or twelve and we’ve grown attached to each other. I always wanted siblings. Taking Ahsoka under my wing was natural to me. Her guardian tends to complain she spends more time at our house than at theirs. She is in this big, fanatic stage where all of Taylor Swift’s songs make  _ sense,  _ you know? So I gave her tickets to the stadium tour last Christmas, for her and her best friend, Barriss. The only problem is that I have to be their chaperone,” he winced at the thought.

"Sounds ghastly. I can only imagine, the concerts I go to are usually more classical in nature.”

“I actually enjoy stand-up comedy and a few concerts that are not filled with hormonal teenagers, singing  _ Shake It Off  _ at the top of their lungs,” he drawled out. “The only opera I went to I… uh… fell asleep.”

“What?  _ No! _ Which one was it?” she demanded furiously.

“I don’t remember,” he tried to hold him his laughter at her furious tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I think you’re lying to me. Was it  _ Phantom of the Opera? _ That’s not actually an opera, you know, it’s a musical.”

“I’m not lying and no, it was not  _ Phantom of the Opera,  _ I do enjoy that one. I like musicals. Oh God, I think it was… something Italian? I don’t recall, I eliminated it from my memories.”

“Uncultured British peasant,” she huffed.

“I can hang up if you wish me to, your Highness,” he drawled out with a roll of his eyes

“No, but I do intend to fix you when next we meet face to face, starting with the works of Mozart.”

Anakin snorted. “I thought torture went against the law?”

“Opera is  _ not _ a form of torture.”

“Yes, this argument is not going to go anywhere, better just agree to disagree, my lady.”

“You know when you call me ‘my lady,’ you’re technically insulting me.”

“Because you say so, or because of one of your ten thousand protocols?”

“The latter. It’s a simple matter of rank. I’m a Princess, not a Lady, and should be addressed as such. Or you could adhere to our original agreement, and call me Padmé.”

“Well,  _ Padmé _ , I am home,” he had actually been parked in the drive of his house for ten whole minutes. “Thank you for the company.”

“Don’t hang up,” she pleaded, sounding almost panicked. “Please.”

He nodded, silently. “What else would you like to ask me?” Anakin questioned softly.

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Talk to me,” she paused for a moment that was so long, it seemed like forever. “Talk to me the way you would if I were normal, and this was a date, I suppose.”

Anakin hesitated. A date? He had no problems talking with her as if it were a friend, but a date was something that required a bit more intimacy and he didn’t want to create any illusions for the Princess. Yet, he couldn’t talk himself of being reasonable and hanging up. She sounded desperate for someone to talk to, to be her friend. “My Engineering and Robotics lessons have reached a record of female attendants and people are blaming me. Which I find annoying because women and men can enjoy Engineering and Robotics all the same.”

“Yet not every course offers a knight in blue jeans as a teacher’s aide,” she teased. “You don’t know your own powers of seduction. You are  _ very _ handsome. And I believe you mentioned something about a charming, magnetic accent?”

He laughed softly, grateful she couldn’t see how she made him blush. “Is that your way of flirting with me, your Highness?”

“I would never presume to encroach on another woman’s territory.”

“My girlfriend would hate it if she knew,” he agreed with a slight twitch of his lips.

“I’m surprised she let you run off to the Mediterranean alone, even if it was only for a few days.”

“We have a very liberal relationship. You know, with the fact she doesn’t exist and all.”

“You’re joking. How do you not have a girlfriend?”

“There is not a lot of time for dating when you are a prodigy, finishing a Ph.D. before his twenty-second birthday,” Anakin admitted sheepishly. 

“You sound like you’re bragging.”

“Maybe,” he admitted cheekily. “So you  _ were  _ flirting with me.”

“I never said that!”

“I can hear you blushing,” he scoffed. He jumped, however, when he felt a knock on his window. “Bloody hell…” he cursed as he rolled down his window, so Ahsoka could shove her face in.

“You’ve been sitting in your car for fifteen minutes, Skyguy, you okay?”

“Yes, Snips, I’m quite alright. Can you… leave me alone, please?”

“I need help with my math’s homework,” she pouted.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he promised.

“Alright. But hurry, I’m starving,” she quipped before removing herself and allowing him to close the window again.

“I really have to hang up now. You just met human hurricane, Ahsoka Tano.” At least, he sounded apologetic.

“The friend who likes Taylor Swift?” Padmé guessed.

“Yes and the friend who will fail maths if I don’t assist her,” he explained. “You can call me anytime that you want, Padmé, I will always answer except when I’m in classes.”

“Duly noted,” Padmé said, sounding wistful. “Do you want me to stop?”

“The call?”

“Yes, if you have other things to do.”

“I’ll hang up,” he nodded. “But, before I do. You are an interesting person, Padmé and you do have power over your current situation. Try to make the best out of a bad situation, it is what my mother always tells me. I think you can do it.”

“I will certainly try.”

“I’ll speak to you soon, Padmé, take care.”

“ _ À bientôt _ ,” she replied softly, and the call ended there before he could say anything else. Ahsoka started rapping on the window again. And then she tugged the door open.

“Who were you talking to? One of your students? A lady teacher? I know it wasn’t Obi-Wan, you looked too happy.”

Anakin rolled his eyes as he left the vehicle and shut the door behind him, locking the doors. “It’s none of your business, you meddlesome teen,” he teased her, poking her in the ribs. 

“Oh, come on, tell meeeeeeee.”

“It was an old colleague of mine and that was it,” he sighed as he opened the front door and ushered her in. “Go to the dining room. I’ll make us some tea and I think there are those delicious, homemade, Shmi Skywalker biscuits hidden somewhere.”

“I  _ will  _ find out the truth,” Ahsoka warned, scampering into the dining room. In his hand, Anakin felt his phone vibrate with a new text. 

**_??: » For the record, you are a far more interesting person than I am. —P_ **

**_??: » Bonne nuit._ **

Anakin stared down at the messages with a soft smile. Maybe she didn’t see her full potential or maybe they were both projecting on each other, but either way, Anakin knew he would convince her of how interesting she was in time.

* * *

 

“Get me a new target.”

“Maybe you should take a break?” Sabé suggested.

“I have taken breaks. I have read all the books I care to read, I have walked around the grounds, I have tried on every piece of clothing I own, and I have fenced circles around the lot of you. All that is left for me to do within the palace is shooting at the range,” Padme retorted coldly as she changed out the now-empty clip of her gun. “So get me another target.”

“You haven’t called your British knight in shining armor, so why not go ahead and do that? I think we ran out of targets anyway,” her protector drawled out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Padmé snapped. “Where are you and Qui-Gon on the investigations?”

“Whoever it was, it didn’t leave a paper trail or a money trail. Our leads are running cold and I believe he might be free around now,” she glanced at her watch. “His classes end at three, on Tuesdays, and he lounges around campus until five doing work for his mentor. I can grab you your phone,” Sabé offered, returning to the original subject.

“No, get me another target. If there’s none left, a picture of the Chancellor will also suffice,” Padmé insisted, refusing to discuss her friendship with Anakin any further. “That is a  _ command.” _

“You’re being a brat,” Sabé huffed but turned on her heel to grab another target and replaced the abused one. “It does not suit you.”

“Convince my father to let me out of the palace and I’ll be back to my old self,” retorted Padmé. “I don’t enjoy being kept like a prisoner.”

“I can see if we can organize an outing. Qui-Gon does maintain a good relationship with the King, I’m sure he can come up with an idea of a protected, secure outing for you.”

“Not good enough. I’d still be suffocated.” Padmé sighed, pulling off her safety goggles to stare at her reflection in them.

Qui-Gon arrived at that moment, phone in hand and a little smile in his face. “I hope I am not interrupting anything terribly important, but I have a phone call for you, your Highness.”

“Did they give their name?”

“I never can understand that British accent…” Qui-Gon shrugged and extended the phone towards her.  “I just know he’s a teacher,” he smirked. Padmé rolled her eyes and snatched the black receiver out of his hand, placing it at her ear.

“Professor Skywalker, is this about a late assignment?” she asked coyly.

There was silence on the other end. “Don’t call me Professor Skywalker,” he requested in a strangled voice. “Please.”

“Sorry!” Padmé panicked. “I thought I was being funny.”

He laughed weakly. “It was funny, I just… Nevermind. It's okay.” He couldn't tell her exactly what that had done to him. “How are you? You never called back again…”

“I got distracted arguing with my family for the last week,” she explained. “And I couldn’t remember your schedule.”

“Liar,” Sabé coughed. 

“Sabé, come with me. I need to speak with the King,” Qui-Gon cleared his throat.

“I understand your life is complicated, sorry if I am intruding,” Anakin said apologetically. “Have you had any luck lately? Regarding the matter of your prison at home?”

“None whatsoever, and the trail on my would-be assassin seems to be going cold. I might well be stuck here until my coronation.”

“I don’t think that will be true. I’m sure your father will ease up on the house arrest question. Right now, he’s scared and that’s normal. Try asking him gently and start small.”

“Oh, I see, you’re an expert on kings now?”

“No, and not even in fathers, I’m just trying to pass some hope to you,” he said quietly.

“I’ll give it a try,” she conceded, “but let’s not talk about that right now, how’s your mother? Still blissfully ignorant of how her son saved a princess?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Oddly suspicious of some calls I’ve been receiving, but she’s fine,” he snickered. “Hospital is keeping her busy.”

“Oh dear, maybe I should refrain from calling you at all then.”

“What will I do then?” He didn’t miss a beat. “A Knight without his Princess is useless.”

“I could put a call into Buckingham Palace, see if Princess Charlotte has any openings.”

“I think Prince William would not like the idea.”

“Hmm, I suppose not. How do you feel about Genovia?”

“Genovia already has Chris Pine. See, all vacancies are already taken,” he said very seriously. “Should you fire me, I would go back to my simple life of teaching female-filled classes, because apparently that keeps happening, and putting up with my boss.”

“Well, then, we’re at an impasse. And I don’t know whether to be worried or impressed that you knew Genovia was fictional.”

“I do it for the children,” he replied. “I hosted a tea party for Ahsoka’s thirteenth birthday party and her favorite movie was  _ The Princess Diaries _ and she had a huge poster of Chris Pine on her wall. I couldn’t escape the knowledge even if I had wanted to.”

“Goodness,” Padmé said, raising her eyebrows until she remembered he couldn’t see her. “Well, then, if I’m keeping you on as my knight, does that mean you’re planning on making a return trip?”

He hesitated. “Unfortunately, not in the near future. I am swamped with work. I don’t want to let Obi-Wan down and my mother really needs me here.”

“ _ Tant pis _ .”

“Sounds like an insult?” Anakin quipped lightly.

“Too bad,” she translated. “Your French could use some work.”

“I’ll try. I’ve installed Duolingo on my phone. Maybe it works. Or maybe the bird will actually murder me for missing lessons. Who knows?” He said dramatically. Anakin paused, turning to a more serious tone. “How are you, really?”

“Still feeling very bored and very trapped,” she admitted, taking the braid out of her hair. “I’ve transitioned from  _ Frozen  _ to  _ Tangled. _ I’ve done every activity I can I think of, and have now resorted to shooting things. That part is less Disney, however. Yes?”

“I really wish I could help you,” he sighed.

“I’ll handle myself, I’m a big girl,” she reassured him. “Please don’t sound sad, you’ll make  _ me _ sad.”

“I’m sorry, I would just like to do something for you. Something helpful. I can’t imagine being a prisoner in my own home.”

“Keep calling me, then. Talking to you,” she paused, wetting her lips. “It’s an escape. You have this way of making me believe what you see in me. I’ve been wrapped up in being the Princess of Theed for so long that when I can’t do that, I don’t know what to do with myself. And that goes away when I talk to you.”

There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “If it means so much to you, I will. After all, what are friends for?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I can tell you about my boring, peasant work as an Assistant Teacher?” Anakin offered. “How the essays are piling up in front of me, waiting to be graded.”

“You are not a peasant, you’re a commoner,” corrected Padmé. “And a very uncommon one at that. But please, tell me everything. It’ll be good practice for when I do finally get back to Parliamentary hearings.” And as Anakin launched into reading the first essay, she smiled softly to herself, imagining how his face shifted as he talked, and how that passion burned in his eyes…

_ Et merde. _


	4. I Made Up My Mind

“How long have we been talking?” Padmé asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

“For about three hours,” he smirked to himself as he finished the last grade. “You've kept me company while I went through the exams. Maybe made me be a little nicer.”

“Well, I was in a good mood anyway, I figured it was part of what you needed,” she said cheerfully. “I didn’t mind waiting to tell you. Papa finally took me off house arrest and just in time for the Festival of Glad Arrival next week."

“See? I told you! Sooner or later he would come to his senses and just in time for a party,” he smiled but paused. “What  _ is  _ the Festival of Glad Arrival?”

“It’s the name for our celebration of Naboo’s founding,” she explained. “It’s  _ wonderful,  _ music and dancing and these beautiful stained glass lanterns. It may be my favorite day of the year.”

“I’m very happy that you get to attend it, Padmé, I really am. It sounds fantastic,” he replied and with a final sigh, he was done with grading papers, pushing them away and reclining in his chair.

“Don’t you have a holiday around that time? You could come if you wanted to, I’d love to see you again. And maybe meet your family.”

“Next week?” He wondered out loud and bit his lower lip. “I… I have to see, I don’t really know if I have a holiday,” he paused and opened his laptop and stared at the background photo. Padmé. He was slowly going insane, thinking about her every minute of the day and getting anxious for their conversations. Seeing her would remind him of what he felt whenever they touched. Seeing her would make her real. “I also need to speak with my Mom. It can be complicated, but I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, of course, I understand. I should probably hang up anyway, I’ve got a Parliament session in the morning.”

“I should get some rest as well. Sleep well, Padmé.”

“Good night, Anakin.” It sounded like she was about to say something else, but then she hung up.

He set the phone down with a deep sigh. They talked on a daily basis and he had never connected with anyone the way he did with Padmé. She was the first woman to challenge him intellectually and understand him and disagreeing with her was actually fun. He would recognize often she could be right, but he liked to be stubborn and watch her work for it, it brought out the feisty politician in her. But all these talks were getting him distracted. He would think about her all day, he would  _ google  _ her every night — _who did that? He felt like a stalker!—_  and he knew that whatever was brewing inside of him wasn’t healthy, wouldn’t work and he had to stop feeding that little monster before it became a full-grown dragon. 

And then there was the matter of that drama Qui-Gon had mentioned. Getting involved with Padmé would mean getting involved in whatever soap opera seemed to be going on, and that wasn’t the kind of person Anakin was.

Shutting off his laptop, he wondered if he should accept the dinner invitation of a fellow teacher’s assistant at the Biology department. If he started dating, he would eventually forget her.

Right?

“Ani, are you still up?” he heard his mother calling from down the hall. “You don’t have class tomorrow, do you?”

“Yes, Mum, I am and I do. I was grading papers,” he replied back.

“Then go to bed, dear, you don’t want to fall asleep in class.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, amused. “Thank you, Mum,” she still treated him like a child but he couldn’t bring himself to fight against that. “I love you, go and get some rest. I’ll be in bed in a few minutes.”

“I love you too.”

* * *

 

“I’ll handle it tomorrow,” Padmé promised as she and Eirtaé walked down the hall. “But it’s late, and I’d like to get some rest.”

“By which you mean staying up late on another phone call?” her blonde friend asked bluntly. “We all know what you’re up to, Padmé. No need to be coy.”

“Who says I’m being coy?”

“Ah, so you admit,” Eirtaé smirked. “How’s your Englishman? Have you invited him over for the Festival already?”

“He’s not  _ my _ Englishman, he’s a friend, and yes, I have,” Padmé said, biting her lip nervously. “He’s not given me an answer yet.

“You  _ like  _ him, Padmé, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Eirtaé said softly. “Maybe he’ll give you an answer tonight. It’s most likely a yes because who would even want to miss out on this Festival?”

“He might be busy.”

“Or he might be just as anxious to see you again.”

“It’s not that simple, Eirtaé, our friendship works because it’s private. Anakin’s an ordinary person, he’s not the type to want the spotlight that comes from associating with a Princess,” Padmé protested.

Eirtaé nodded, knowing her friend was right. “I know, but people change. Often for the most variable reasons. You need to keep your hope, Padmé, you never know what tomorrow will bring. Anyway, I should leave. You have a phone call to make and I have some paperwork to sort before going home.”

“I do not—” The phone in her pocket vibrated at that very moment and Padmé huffed indignantly before answering. “ _ Allô, oui?” _

“ _ Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle,”  _ Anakin greeted in flawless French.

“ _ Tu as pratiqué,” _ she remarked, a smile forming on her lips in spite of herself. “ _ Trés bien.” _

_ “J’ai un bon motif,”  _ he replied with a small chuckle, and Padmé laughed as well.

“So, were you able to talk to your mother about my offer?” 

Anakin didn’t answer immediately and when he did, he sounded more distant. “We won’t be able to attend the Festival, Padmé, my apologies,” he replied. “Mum has to work some night shifts, they are understaffed and I do have classes to prepare. It’s… it’s not possible.”

“I see,” Padmé said just as distantly. She’d been expecting a refusal, given how long the decision had taken him, yet it still cut deeply into her. “Well, that’s too bad, but I understand.”

“Perhaps next year?” He offered weakly.

* * *

 

“Yes, perhaps.” She ended the call, shoving the phone back into her pocket and picking up the pace as she headed back towards her suite. It rang again and again, but she ignored it.

“Your Highness?” Sabé trailed off, watching Padmé brush past her in a rush.

“Sabé, not now. I want to go to bed.”

“Wait, what happened?” Her decoy asked, suspiciously. “Padmé, who hurt you?”

“No one. I’m fine, I’m completely intact, not a scratch on me, no fever, nothing to worry about.”

Sabé narrowed her eyes. “It was  _ him,  _ wasn’t it? I warned you not to get attached to your English boy toy. What did he do and can I hurt him?”

“He’s not mine, he didn’t do anything, and no, you can’t.” Padmé snapped, wrenching open her door and then slamming it shut behind her.

The bodyguard scowled at the closed door and she knew she had to do something.

One week later and Padmé didn’t call or answered any of his attempts either. Frustrated and deciding that he depended too much on the Princess of Naboo lately, he went out with a lovely, intelligent woman with whom he was able to speak the entire night and have a good time.

However, he came to the dreading realization that he didn’t stop comparing her to Padmé the entire night. The way she spoke, the way she dressed, how she carried herself to the opinions she shared. He found himself comparing the two women and his date had constantly lost. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember her  _ name  _ now, he was so wrapped up in thinking about Padmé.

Anakin felt confused, frustrated and angry with the situation he found himself in. He needed to let her go. Padmé belonged to a different reality and maybe it had been a good choice for them to stop speaking every day. It made him have a clear head (and a temper, according to Obi-Wan).

When he got home, he closed the door with more force than necessary, stomping up the stairs while removing his jacket that he let on the floor somewhere near his bed. 

He could try to call the girl back, whatever her name was he was sure he would remember, and ask for a second date. Fight the temptation of daydreaming about an  _ actual  _ Princess. But destiny was not going to be kind as his phone started to vibrate with a number he already recognized by heart.

“ _ Yes?”  _ He answered sharply. “ _ Now  _ you know my number?”

“I was busy,” Padmé replied softly. “I’m sorry.”

Anakin took a deep breath. “It’s alright,  _ your Highness,  _ I can imagine your position demands a lot of your time. What do I owe the honor of your call?”

“Stop talking like that.” Her voice quivered. “I just… I was hurt, I’m sorry for hanging up.”

“You were hurt, why? Because I tell you I have a life I just can’t drop at a moment’s notice to meet you in Theed for some party?” He scowled. “ _ Your Highness,  _ the working class needs to fulfill their schedules, deliver their assignments and meet their shifts. Just because their lives can’t be put on hold, you are not in the right to be  _ hurt. _ ”

Then he felt  _ bad  _ but the words had already been spoken and he was too angry to take them back. Too angry at himself for letting himself be dragged into this situation. Too angry at her for having him bewitched since he saved her in Theed.

“That’s not why I was hurt,” she protested hotly. “But it’s good to know what you really think of me, so, Mr. Skywalker, I’m sorry to have wasted your time. You needn’t worry, I won’t bother you again.” And just as abruptly as last time, the call ended.

He fell on his chair and threw the phone across the room. He’d lost his temper and he knew he should have apologized the second after it happened but maybe this was for the best. So they could both move on from whatever it was happening between them. It would never work, it would never end well. No matter how good the conversations were and how much they made each other laugh. Some things are just not meant to be.

“Ani, what is happening?” Shmi asked, opening the door and eyeing the spot in the wall where his phone had left a dent. “Did the date with Rachel go that badly?”

“Rachel?” He frowned. “Oh.  _ Rachel.  _ That’s her name,” he mumbled distractedly.

“What’s going on?” Shmi asked, taking a seat on his bed as she looked at him.

He initially shrugged and picked on some imaginary lines on his pants. “I think,” he sighed deeply and his shoulders fell forward. “Mum, I think I fell in love with the wrong woman and I don’t know what to do to forget her.”

“The wrong woman,” his mother repeated.

“Yes. Someone who I can never be with. The one woman on this Earth whose life will never match mine.” Anakin groaned.

“You sound like your grandfather,” Shmi muttered to herself, then clapped a hand over her mouth in horror as she realized what she’d said.

“What?” He frowned, looking up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Ani, I…”

“My grandfather from my father’s side, you mean,” he raised one eyebrow. “Was that what he told my father about you? And tell me, is this grandfather alive and kicking, still around the world creating mayhem, perhaps?”

“Anakin, your father would have wanted to keep away from him for a very good reason, I’m not going to take you down that road.”

“You can’t do that if you hide things from me,” he snapped. “You have to start telling me the truth. Am I or am I not the grandson of the Chancellor of Naboo?”

“And what if you are?” Shmi blurted. “Does that matter? He was an awful, selfish man in the brief time I knew him, how he managed to raise someone like your father still astounds me. We left Naboo behind because no good can come from knowing him, Ani.”

“He knows I exist,” Anakin said quietly. “He knows who I am. I’ve met him because, well, I haven’t been totally honest about my Naboo time either.”

“You mean that you were the one who saved the Princess?”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “How… How do you… My name was not released to the public, how can you possibly know that?”

“I’m your mother, Ani, did you really think I wouldn’t be paying attention to the news cycle in Naboo while you were there? That I wouldn’t recognize you, even if the photos were blurry?”

“You could have told me,” he muttered. “I’ve been feeling guilty for not telling you the truth but I didn’t want to put unnecessary worry on you.”

“I figured as much. I worry no matter what, Anakin, that’s what parents do.”

“I met him and I met Qui-Gon and they all were just expecting so much of me, they want me to be Luc Palpatine’s son and Mum, I don’t know if I want to because the behind the scenes of Naboo look a lot like a James Bond movie I do not want to get mixed up in,” he sighed and ran his hand across his hair. “That’s why I am reluctant in going back to Naboo.”

“Why you’re afraid to admit you’re in love with your princess?”

“She’s not  _ my  _ princess,” he retorted.

“Ani.”

“I think I am in love with her but it might be infatuation or hero’s syndrome. It’s common, after you save someone’s life,” he babbled. “But she is a Princess and she has certain responsibilities towards her country and herself and this could never work.”

“Or is it that you’re scared, and you don’t  _ want _ it to work?”

“I am not cut out for her lifestyle. To stay within Palace walls, surrounded by bodyguards all the times and having my life all over the tabloids. I don’t want to lose my privacy, it’s not who I am and she needs someone that can rule Naboo with her one day, someone who actually knows what he’s doing.” Anakin explained. “I am not that man.”

“Anakin, if you love her the way I think you do, don’t you think you owe it to her, to yourself to try?”

“I’ve seen her three times and you just can’t fall madly in love over phone conversations,” he jumped to his feet. “Maybe I love her, maybe I am infatuated. But maybe, I am just confused and nothing is what it seems. Anyway, I think we’re pretty much done talking to each other as it is. I’m taking a shower and then I need some rest.” He kissed his mother’s forehead and left her in his bedroom, alone. Shmi slumped forward, shaking her head as she fiddled with the tarnished silver locket she wore beneath her blouse.

“Oh, Luc, I don’t know what to do for our boy,” she whispered.

* * *

 

Friday had been horrible. Horrible classes, horrible questions, horrible weather. Anakin was so done with the day he had nearly leaped with joy when Obi-Wan dismissed him earlier. He couldn’t wait to spend the weekend at home, doing absolutely nothing but wallowing in his misery.

On his way back home, he saw a flash of brown hair out of the corner of his eye and as he turned, on instinct, it was almost as if he was seeing Padmé. He hesitated but approached the half-hidden woman. Maybe it was her. Maybe she had come to London to officially break their phone relationship off.

“Padmé?” 

The woman lowered the hood of her coat, letting him see that it wasn’t her, but someone who could’ve been her twin. She was missing the moles that made Padmé unique, and her face was a little wider, a little more angular. “Not exactly, Anakin Skywalker,” she said, the Franco-Anglo-Italian amalgamation of the Naboo accent marring her English. “ _ Sabé _ .”

Anakin took one step back, wary of the woman. “Very well,  _ Sabé,  _ who in God’s name are you? What do you want from me?”

“You broke my princess,” she answered, moving towards him with a savage gleam in her eye. “And now, you better fix her.”

“Princess? You… you’re part of Padmé’s guard,” he frowned, realization dawning on him and he suddenly felt like his privacy was being violated. “What do you mean, I broke her? You may be overreacting,  _ Sabé _ . Find her a Prince or a King. Someone of her status. I’m not good at fixing princesses. Computers? Yes. Tiaras? No. You can go back to Naboo and tell Padmé her message was very loud and very clear,” he scowled and turned around, decided on entering his house and locking himself inside.

“Oh, the Princess has no idea I’m here. This is a self-assigned mission.” And then Anakin felt something stab him in the back of the neck and his world went black.


	5. The City's Asleep

“You had no right to do this!”

“It’s my duty to serve you in  _ all  _ things. Just because I was willing to do what you weren’t, that doesn’t mean I didn’t—”

“You absolutely did!”

The two women arguing dipped in and out as Anakin groggily blinked awake to see them standing over him. He had a killer headache and a pounding in his ears as if he had been drinking for the past day and a hangover was trying to kill him. He groaned as he regained his senses and started to sit up, trying to piece together what had happened before he blacked out. As the memories clicked, he gasped and jumped back, hitting the headboard of the bed. His hazy blue eyes danced from one to the other, until they landed on the figure he now recognized as Sabé.

“You psychotic bitch, what did you do to me?” He growled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “ _ Where  _ am I?” He added looking around wildly, the spacious bedroom unknown to him, with big windows that allowed natural light to flood in and give him a bigger headache.

“Naboo,” the other woman interrupted with a scowl. Padmé. “Against my express wishes.”

“Clearly your  _ minion  _ didn’t receive the message because she kidnapped me,” he seethed, throwing daggers at the woman.

“Sabé, get out,” Padmé ordered.

“I will be pressing charges against you,” he gritted his teeth, looking at the bodyguard with a fiery hatred. “Deranged woman.”

“No, you won’t be,” Sabé predicted, smugly sauntering out of the room. Padmé closed the door behind her and slumped against it, sighing.

“ _ Bitch _ ,” he muttered under his breath again and looked around the room, frowning.

“I am so, so sorry, Anakin, I’ll get you back home before the school week starts again, I promise,” Padmé winced.

“I want to be back home  _ today _ ,” he stated. “This is completely unethical and illegal. I  _ can  _ press charges against her. I won’t if I am taken back to London  _ today,  _ so I can have the rest of my weekend in peace,” he scowled.

“I can’t do that!” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “This is our biggest weekend of the year, travel out of the country is practically impossible, even for me. I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care what you have to do,” Anakin narrowed his eyes. “Your bodyguard brought me here, she  _ kidnapped  _ me, and now you have to clean up her mess and get me home. I’ll fly commercial, executive, a private plane, whatever the hell you have stored. But I want to be home for dinner.”

“I’m not all-powerful, Anakin, I can’t compromise my country’s airport just because Sabé overestimated what we mean to each other!”

“ _ Fine, _ ” he said crisply, that subject a bit too sensitive for him. “I’ll see if the Chancellor can offer some support in this situation. I am sure he will be delighted to see me again,” he quipped as he grabbed the coat that had been left in one of the armchairs and made himself prepared to leave.

“You really think he’ll let you leave?” she asked hollowly, staring down at the ground, rather than look at him.

“I think he wants to win me over, so he’ll do whatever I ask,” Anakin shrugged. “I should take advantage of that while I can.”

“You don’t know him very well.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he scowled. “At least he didn’t kidnap me.”

“I don’t approve of what Sabé did, and she will be dealt with, but if you want to stay out of the public eye, suing one of my bodyguards is not going to help.”

Anakin threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, I won’t sue, but I don’t feel safe with her around and honestly, I really, really, really would like to go home. I’ll take my chances with the airport and the never-ending lines.”

“Did you have your passport when she took you?”

He could cry. “Then I’ll go to the fucking embassy. I don’t care, I’ll fix it,” he opened the bedroom door, anxious to leave, to find a solution and go back home. If he had to knock on the Chancellor’s door, he would.

“Anakin, I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t think we would ever have contact again.”

“I didn’t think it either, but your bitch of a minion thought differently,” he said stiffly. “I should be at home, watching Netflix and ignoring the papers I have to grade. Now, I’m stuck in a country with no documents, no money, nothing. You know, you should really be more careful about who you choose to have around you. Typho got blindsided, this one is certifiably insane.”

“And what does it say about me that I cared about you?” she shot back, and he spotted a tear running down her cheek.

“That you were lonely and on house arrest and I was the only one who knew the truth,” he shook his head. “I think I’ll leave now,” he turned and left the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

What followed was a maze of hallways, living rooms, more hallways, and rooms. After he ended up in the same living room for the third time, he collapsed on an armchair, ready to yell in frustration. What was he going to do? He didn’t even have his phone with him. The Palace was a trap and he just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

“ _ Ça va? _ ” a little girl asked, toddling up to him, holding a cake in her hands that was dropping crumbs on the carpet.  “ _ Qui-est vous?” _

Startled, he looked at the little girl and gave her a nice smile. “Do you speak English?” He didn’t have the strength for French.

“Daddy teaches me,” she answered, making the switch easily. “I’m Ryoo. My Grand-père is the king.”

_ Padmé’s older niece.  _ “I’m Anakin, a… friend, of your Aunt’s. It’s very nice to meet you, Ryoo.”

“Auntie Padmé’s never mentioned you,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Are you lying?”

“No, I’m not. I am not from around here, you see, I’m from England and I am here as a surprise,”  _ apparently _ , “to your Aunt.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I didn’t like Auntie Padmé’s last boyfriend. But you seem much nicer.”

Anakin fiercely blushed. “I am not her boyfriend, Ryoo, no, no, no,” he shook his head. “I am her friend. Just her friend. Nothing else. I actually am heading home soon, do you think you can tell me where the exit is?”

“I can show you, but we’re having dinner soon. Wouldn’t you like to eat before you leave? Dex makes very good food,” she offered innocently.

“I know he does and I would love to stay but maybe another time. I have to leave so I can get home and be with my Mum. She must be worried about me and I don’t want her to worry,” he explained with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me, though.”

She pushed herself up and offered him a sticky hand. “Come on.”

Anakin smiled and stood up, accepting her hand. “Thank you.”

“Me and Pooja get lost sometimes too. We don’t live here, we travel with Mama and Daddy,” she explained as she led him down the corridors. “We go all over the world. Do you travel a lot?”

“Not a lot, so far I've been to Naboo, Portugal, and France. I don't think I've traveled as much as you did. You must be really smart and know a lot of different things,” Anakin smiled down at her. Padmé had told him all about her adorable nieces. Ryoo, the oldest and Pooja, the youngest one. She had also mentioned briefly that her older sister was not in line to the throne anymore, having giving up the claim to the throne, and how she did not regret it, particularly after marrying her American boyfriend a few years later. However, Anakin knows that the one that had suffered more consequences, so to speak, was Padmé, who saw herself as the only heiress to the throne. “I would like to travel more, though, what were your favorite places?”

“There’s a lot of places,” she said. “I think I really liked Tokyo. I like the food there. Pooja didn’t, though. But that might be because she doesn’t know much Japanese.”

“Tokyo sounds fascinating. Do  _ you  _ know Japanese?” He raised his eyebrows. “It sounds difficult.”

“Mommy has us learn as much as possible since we travel,” Ryoo answered. “I know a little, but I’m getting better fast.” She stopped in front of a door. “Okay, this is where you leave. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Ryoo,” he smiled at her and sighed as he stood at the front door. It couldn’t be that simple to leave a royal palace.

“Watch out for the camera people,” she warned as she turned to leave.

“Wait, what?” He snapped to her. “Oh, God,” he groaned and let his head fall on his hands. He was condemned to stay in the Palace after he was completely rude to its future ruler.

“They’re annoying,” Ryoo agreed matter-of-factly. “But Mama says we just have to ignore them.”

“I know, I just don’t like having my picture taken,” he gave her a small smile. “I guess I have to find your Aunt if I want to go home,” Anakin drawled out. He needed to call his mother and assure her he was fine (even if he had been kidnapped and was in a foreign country without documents) and maybe he should reach out to Qui-Gon. He seemed like the best person to help him.

“Auntie Padmé might be in the gym, she goes there sometimes when she’s upset. And she’s been upset a lot lately.”

“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Can you point me in the gym’s direction, please, Ryoo?”

“All the way down this hall, three doors to the left,” she recited, pointing the way. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ryoo,” he tipped his head to the side. “Thank you for being so helpful.”

Anakin took off down the hall Ryoo had pointed out for him, and recited her directions in his head before he got lost and had to be rescued by a seven-year-old again. Hesitating at the door of the gym, Anakin sighed. He knew he had snapped at her and it was not like he wanted to  _ apologize  _ (yet) because he did feel furious for what Sabé did and he did hate to be held against his will and now he was stuck in the Palace, completely clueless and dying to go home. Eventually, Anakin knew, he might have come to Naboo, but on his terms, whenever he felt ready. This felt forced, wrong and it only made him feel like he didn’t want to be in this country, in this palace, right now and so, he couldn’t be judged for being bitter and sour. He knocked on the door before slipping inside.

He thought he would find a regular gym, but it was more of a fencing gym and his mind wandered back to their conversations. Padmé had mentioned she was passionate about that specific sport.

“Apparently, if I want to keep my privacy, I am stuck here,” he said dryly, leaning against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive stance. “I need to call my mother, make sure she didn’t already call the police reporting my disappearance and then I think I’ll call Qui-Gon and ask for his help.” He paused. “Please.”

Padmé stopped slicing at a practice dummy with the sword in her hand and turned to look at him. She’d changed out of her princessy blue dress into a sleeveless white top and pants that left nothing to the imagination. “There are many rooms in the palace with a phone, you are welcome to use any of them. This room is not one of them,” she informed him bluntly.

“I see that your niece did not get her sympathy from you,” he snorted. “You know it’s your fault I am in this mess, right? You could be supportive and actually show me where I can stay until I can fix this.”

“I thought you would prefer me staying out of your life as much as possible,” Padmé countered, avoiding his gaze. “I take full responsibility for trying to extend our interactions beyond your initial visit here, and for that, I have apologized multiple times.”

“I don’t know what you could ever hope from me, since we live two very different lives, come from two very different worlds. You have apologized, I recognize that and I accept your apology,” he licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “But you also have to understand how trapped and lost I feel right now. Your bodyguard drugged me, kidnapped me and brought me across Europe with no documents. I refused to come to the Festival, I didn’t refuse to step foot in Naboo ever again,” he explained. “Making me come here, this way, was the worst possible decision because I just feel wronged and violated. I actually don’t feel safe. At all. In which way, do you or your bodyguard believe, this will be beneficial for any party involved?”

She crossed the mat covered floor of the gym to put down the sword. “I didn’t  _ want _ her to bring you here. I stopped calling you, I stopped taking your calls because I realized that I had crossed a line, and I thought the best thing was for us to gain some distance. To remember reality. As for what I  _ had _ hoped, it’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?”

“Inviting me to come to the Festival was not crossing a line,” he pointed out. “The way you hung up, however, was uncalled for. The moment I tell you ‘no’ for the first time is like a bucket of ice, cold water because the line goes dead and I don’t hear from you for days. It was childish,” Anakin accused. “It is irrelevant and you know why,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You were lonely. Under house arrest. You got attached.  _ I  _ got attached but we need to face reality and that is the fact that we don’t belong in the same world. I have classes. You have Parliament.”

“Attached,” she repeated. “Not exactly the word I would have used, but I suppose that it does capture the general idea. Here.” She pulled her phone out of the sweater that had been sitting next to the sword rack and passed it to him. “Your home number is in there. And Qui-Gon’s. Make whatever calls you need to. I owe you that much.”

He accepted the phone, carefully not to touch her. He remembered what it felt like, he didn’t need to lose reason over feeling it again. It wasn’t healthy to either of them. “Thank you. I’ll give it back in a few minutes.” He dialed his home number and turned to put a little distance between them, while he waited for his mother to answer the phone. It rang forever and he wondered if she was even home. Actually, he didn’t even know what time it was.

“Ani?!” she finally picked up, sounding panicked. “What happened? Are you alright? I called the police but they said legally you weren’t missing yet—

“Mum, I’m alright. I’m safe. I’m… in Naboo. Theed’s Royal Palace,” he rubbed his temples. “I am so sorry, please calm down. I’m alright, I swear.”

“ _ What?” _

“Long story,” he sighed. “I sort of was kidnapped and I don’t have any documents but I am calling a friend for help. Qui-Gon. You know him, right?” Anakin raised one eyebrow. “He’s my only shot at going home soon. I might have to call Obi-Wan and tell him I won’t be able to give the lecture on Monday, but I hope I’m home by then.”

“I’ll call Obi-Wan. You just work on sorting things out there and getting home safely. Travel is insane around there right now, people get very drunk and rowdy during the Festival of Glad Arrival.”

“Unfortunately for me, that seems to be the main delay,” he groaned. “I’ll keep giving you news, Mum, I swear. I’m so, so sorry about this. Tell Ahsoka I’ll help her with her science project next weekend, I think it’s still before the deadline. I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too, be careful.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled before hanging up and prepared to make the next call. Qui-Gon. He just hoped the man provided him with some guidance and solution, he would be at a loss if he didn’t. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

“Princess, I said  _ I  _ would call you when I found something new,” the older man’s voice came on the other end gruffly.

“Qui-Gon? It’s me. It’s Anakin. Skywalker. But, I believe I might be the only Anakin you know,” the words tumbled out of his mouth in a relieved rush. “I need your help.”

“Why are you,” Qui-Gon stopped and groaned. “Sabé Minara. That little schemer.”

“Yes, that deranged bitch,” Anakin said annoyed. “I was drugged, kidnapped and left on a country without documents. I need you to take me home. As soon as humanly possible. Please,  _ please  _ tell me you can make it happen.”

“The soonest I can arrange something is tomorrow night, I’m afraid. Much of our security forces are tied up in the Festival.”

Anakin groaned, feeling like he could cry. “What are you expecting me to do until tomorrow night? Twiddle my thumbs? That evil minion didn’t remember to bring my homework with me to keep me entertained,” he snapped.

“However the circumstances, the Royal Family is always gracious in their hosting, I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you occupied, young Skywalker.”

“You’re completely useless,” he hissed and hung up. He took a deep breath before turning around, closing some of the distance he had placed between himself and the royal, and extended the phone back to Padmé. “Thank you,” he said, a permanent scowl in his face.

She set the phone back on the sweater and picked up two blades. “Do you fence?” she asked.

He looked from the blade to her face. “I’m not in the right mood to wield that. I might just go hunt Sabé down and kill her. Multiple times.”

“Would you settle for sparring with someone who looks like her?” she offered.

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “I’m not dueling with you,” he shook his head.

“It’s not proper for a princess to be aggressive in ‘civilized’ company, no matter how frustrating,” she said lightly. “Fencing is how I alleviate that aggression. And right now, you need that.”

He thought about it, then shrugged. “Whatever, it’s not like I have anything better to do, now do I?” He extended his hand so she could pass him the blade.

“Please, contain your excitement,” she said dryly, pressing the hilt into his hand. For the briefest instant, their hands made contact.

Anakin immediately recoiled. There was that damn electricity again. “This is how excited I can get given that it’s either fencing or banging my head against the walls until I pass out and miraculously wake up back in London.”

“Please don’t. You could get permanent brain damage, and then where would England be?” Padmé pursed her lips as she realized how quickly she’d slipped back into quips.

“Hopefully, not kidnapped,” he retorted sourly and marched towards the mats. It had been a while since he fenced, but he still remembered some of the basics of his lessons. He recognizes she was trying to lighten up the mood, but he was still so upset that he couldn’t match it. “Come on, Princess, let’s see what you’ve got,” he challenged, getting into position.


	6. I Have Been Waiting

Padmé moved first, her sword clashing against Anakin’s with a screech. He pushed the sword away and countered, their swords clashing again, the sound echoing through the silent gym. “Not bad,” she remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“I had fencing lessons before I dedicated my time to robotics,” he explained as he moved to strike another blow. “I still remember a thing or two.”

She parried and spun around, smiling softly. “I can tell. Natural talent.”

Anakin shrugged. “I’m out of practice. I haven’t picked up a sword since I was fourteen.”

“Épée,” she corrected.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes and deflected one of her blows to counter with another. “It’s still a sword.”

“And a Philips head screwdriver is the same as a flat head?” she countered. “Knowing the name of one’s tools is part of any craft.”

“As long as the tools do the job, they’re just that. Tools,” he raised one eyebrow. “I can use a Philips head screwdriver or a flat head for the same goal. They exist to screw and unscrew screws. Which is the oddest sentence I’ve said lately.”

“Hmm.” Padmé’s blade tapped him on the backside lightly.

He quickly turned and frowned at her. “I’ve already been poked enough today,” their swords clashed again as he picked up his pace and made her retreat a couple of steps, before tapping her on her side. “I don’t want to be poked anymore.”

“Hmph,” she moved in closer, doing something to make her sword catch on his and disarm him.

“Good move,” he complimented.

“I can’t be honorable all the time,” she said with a small smile.

“I see that. You have also been practicing, clearly,” he conceded. “You win.”

“Do I? It doesn’t feel that way.”

Anakin crossed his arms. “You have my weapon. Clearly, you’ve won the sparring session.”

“Nothing’s stopping you from picking it up again.”

He bent down to pick up the sword’s hilt before it clashed with hers again, and again, like a dance they were making up as they went.

“How long did you say it had been?”

“Seven years,” he replied. “However, it’s not something you forget.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Since when have you been fencing?” He questioned.

“Since age seven,” she answered. “In addition to horseback riding, both western and side saddle, and archery. The martial arts and firearms training started when I became Princess of Theed, about ten years ago. I didn’t want to be helpless if someone caught me off guard. Obviously, it didn’t work out as I thought.”

“You can’t live your life looking over your shoulder,” Anakin said softly, while he blocked her attack and riposted, making her step back. “You weren’t able to defend yourself, but who would? No one is bulletproof, Padmé, you can expect to be able to save yourself from those situations. I don't doubt that you can hold yourself against a physical attack and you clearly are very good at fencing.” 

He took a step back himself as she blocked his own attack and lunged, and soon they soon started a short series of attacks, where neither withdrawn their arm between them. The sounds of their blades clashing, their movements over the mats and their breaths were making their adrenaline rush, eyes locked into each other. Brown with blue. He noticed how some of her more rebel curls escaped the confinement of their elastic and fell over her face and she could clearly see that his own hair was starting to stick to the back of his neck, a single line of sweat dripping down his temple and beneath his shirt.

With an intention of creating a gap in her defenses, he launched a few fake attacks that took her by surprise and beneath his last one, his real intention was revealed as he disarmed her, grabbed her sword, and struck her in the stomach. He raised his eyebrows at her. “I guess I win?”

Padmé stumbled back, trying to catch her breath as she swore under her breath in Italian. “Naboo does not concede to England,” she gasped.

In spite of his initial mood, he grinned widely at her expression. “I have your weapon,” he waved the sword in the air. “What exactly will you do to beat me?” Anakin teased.

Padmé pursed her lips, suppressing a smile of her own as she skirted around him, grabbing two new blades from the rack. “Get new ones,” she answered, spinning them each in her hands. “ _ En garde, _ England.” Then she brought the two swords down against his.

“Alright, Naboo, let’s see if I can make you bend the knee,” he snickered as he defended her attack and countered.

Padmé gave an unladylike grunt as she pushed against him. “Not if I topple you first,” she retorted, taking one moment to hook her ankle around his and pulled back, sending him topping down to the floor. Before he could get up, she dropped down, straddling him with the covered tips of the swords pointed at his throat. “Yield.”

“If you tell me why Sabé was in London, after me,” he retorted, grunting as he felt her weight on his lower stomach, the contact making him feel static, electricity running all over his muscles.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, setting the épées down on either side of them. “I suppose she got it into her head that we mean more to each other than we actually do. And decided to take matters into her own hands. I didn’t ask her to do it, Anakin, I was planning to leave you alone. The only other explanation I can think of is that the investigations have turned up something that Qui-Gon shared with her and not with me.”

Anakin paused as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I don’t think it’s the latter, given that I was accused of breaking a Princess,” he replied. “Why would she think we mean more to each other? What could have possibly put that into her psycho brain?”  _ Dangerous waters, Skywalker.  _ “How  _ is  _ the investigation going?”

Padmé’s face darkened and she stood, moving away from him to return her weapons to their original place. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“Why she thinks we mean more to each other or how the investigation is going?” He quipped, supporting his weight on his elbows, observing her movements.

She sighed, keeping her back turned to him. “While we’ve not been able to find any concrete evidence yet, the working theory now is that the attempt on my life was arranged by the Chancellor.”

“Why don’t you put him under investigation and away from his post?” Anakin asked as he stood to his full height. “If he is indeed guilty, keeping him as a Chancellor is a risk you shouldn’t be willing to take. This way, he’s far too close to try and hurt you again.”

“If we did arrest him and were wrong, it’d be political suicide, he’s the head of Parliament. Such a slight won’t be easily forgiven, and, God forbid, I could very well be Queen tomorrow. Or any day. I have to be certain.”

“Then what is the plan here, how are you going to be certain?”

“We’re working on it, you don’t need to worry,  _ I  _ need to worry.”

“Fine,” he said in a clipped tone. “Answer my first question, then, since that is a topic in which I am involved. Why does Sabé thinks we mean more to each other?”

“Why do you think?” she snapped, turning around to look at him with glassy eyes. “You were the only friend I had where my being a princess didn’t matter, and I let that get out of hand. It won’t happen again.”

“You should tell her that in regular cultures, we don’t kidnap each other’s friends,” he said dryly. “We were still  _ friends  _ until you decided to hang up on me and ignore me for days.”

“Because I can’t be your friend anymore! I can’t ask you to be a part of a world where I might die so that an ambitious old man can have a shot at the crown!” Padmé blurted. “It’s not fair, to either of us.”

“You are not going to die, Padmé,” Anakin said calmly.

“We’re all going to die at some point, it’s just a matter of how quickly,” she countered, pacing frantically as more curls escaped her ponytail. “I know I sound paranoid, but after weeks of thinking about it, how can I not be?”

“It’s normal that you’re overthinking what happened to you, but-”

“But what, Anakin? I should try to relax? Forget that I don’t belong to myself, but to my country?”

“You’re nervous. You’re on edge and I can’t blame you for that, but you can’t automatically give the Chancellor the crown just because you believe he is going to outsmart you or your security team,” Anakin stopped her pacing by securing both of her shoulders.

“I don’t believe he’s smarter than me, but I have to act like he is,” she said, shaking her head. “I have to take every possibility every variable into account, just like he—” She stopped suddenly, staring at Anakin. “You.”

“Me?” He raised his eyebrows. “What about me?”

“You’re the only thing he didn’t account for when he started this. You being there to save me, and your…” She trailed off, having the decency to look embarrassed.

“My…?” Anakin pressured. “My what?” He didn’t like where the conversation was heading.

“Your paternity,” she mumbled.

“Yes,  _ that _ ,” he sighed deeply and let go of her. “My mother told me the truth, and he  _ is  _ my grandfather but that is not going to make me run into his arms, looking for a father figure. I have Obi-Wan for that.”

“I’m not asking you to, it’s just that this is an opportunity. An angle we neglected. Sheev’s ambitious,” she muttered to herself. “He wouldn’t be satisfied with just ruling for himself, he’d want his line to continue.”

Anakin took a step back. “I am sure, but he has a brother, a nephew,” he was already disliking the turn of tables. “Padme, I’m not a solution. I am the guy that was in the right place, at the right time and with the necessary reflexes. I am not made for whatever movie plot this situation is becoming.”

“Anakin, please, I need you, if he’s serious, he’s not going to stop until I’m dead,” she implored, grabbing his arm. “If you just talked to him tomorrow, before you leave, we could get a confession, we could have the evidence we need.”

“Why me? You have an entire legion of guards and secret services. You have Qui-Gon to protect you. I am not useful to you.”

“Because he doesn’t know you. He hasn’t planned for you. Please, Anakin, just this one thing, and then you don’t have to see or hear from me ever again.”

He only had to return to London by nightfall and given that his mother had told him the truth, he would like to know at least more about his father. And if he could help Padmé at the same time, it was a win-win situation. 

“I can speak with him tomorrow. I can try to have him confess but while he didn't plan for me, he's not an idiot, Padmé, you can't lay all your bets on this one conversation that might not give you anything,” Anakin warned. 

The tears that had been forming in her eyes and making them shine began to spill over, her entire petite frame trembling as she let out a sob. “I’m afraid, God, so afraid, for me, for you, I don’t want to send you into this danger…”

“It won't be a dangerous situation, I am all he has left of his son, I'll be fine, Padmé please, don't cry, you don't have to cry. Everything is going to work out, I'm sure.” He said trying to be reassuring and panic began forming in the pit of his stomach. “You're not going to die.”

“Anakin,” she whispered, closing the distance between them by hugging him tightly, her face buried in his chest. He could smell lotus blossoms in her hair.

His heart tightened at seeing her so vulnerable, so negative about her current situation and he wanted nothing more than to protect her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Everything will turn out fine, you just need to have hope.” She looked up at him, saying nothing. Then she raised herself onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his.

At first, he was shocked but he didn't find the strength in himself to resist what was happening. It felt right. Her lips were soft and he had actually dreamt about this kiss, he had dreamt a lot more. He returned the kiss with a sigh, his arms tightening a little more around her petite frame as he deepened it.  Her tongue brushed against his lower lip for a brief moment, and then they both pulled back, eyes wide as they struggled to catch their breath. “Anakin, I…”

“I'm sorry…” it was like a slap in the face and he pulled away from her, quickly putting some distance between them. “I shouldn't have done that, it won't…” he lost his words for a moment. “I won't do it again, it's not right. I'm sorry,” he turned away and ran from the room, not really sure to where, but he knew that being in her presence was only going to cloud his mind even further and he had to remember who she was and what he was. She was a Princess, destined to rule a country. He was an Assistant Teacher in Cambridge who drove an eco car and has piles of essays to read and grade. 

It could never work.

* * *

 

“I wondered how long would it take to get a phone call from you ever since Anakin returned from Theed,” Obi-Wan commented as he held his phone between his shoulder and his ear and poured himself a glass of whiskey. “How long has it been, Qui-Gon?” He straightened and grabbed the glass, accommodating himself in his office chair.

“However long it’s been since you broke Satine Kryze’s heart,” Qui-Gon answered glibly. “Why is it everyone who leaves Naboo seems to run off to England, Obi-Wan? Are fish and chips really so appealing?”

Obi-Wan winced and he took a sip of his drink to swallow down his former mentor’s jab. “It has been a long time, that was all that you had to say,” he retorted sourly. “England has its charms. Culture. A fantastic university for me to teach in and no one to look down on me for my status.” He would  _ not  _ ask about Satine Kryze.

“I thought I should make you aware that Anakin’s sudden absence from England is the result of Sabé Minara meddling on behalf of our Princess.”

“Ah, the beloved Princess Padmé who I have been hearing so much about,” Obi-Wan swirled his drink, looking at the golden liquid. “He loves her. He’s terrified of it, yes, but he loves her,” he took a sip. “Kidnapping him, forcing him to do or say something he does not feel ready to say will not help the situation, Qui-Gon, that is not how Anakin works. You cage him in and he’ll bite you and behave erratically. Don’t do it. Bring him home.”

“I have every intention of doing so. On Princess Padmé’s orders. But there’s more, Obi-Wan, you remember Luc, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Yes. You remember Shmi, don’t you? You touch her son, she’ll go after you. Even Luc was terrified of her. While I believe the more is relating to his grandfather, I made a promise to Luc once and I have been keeping it so far, so, whatever it is, no, Qui-Gon.”

“I’m not the one you need to be worried about, Sheev is. He knows of Anakin’s existence, and I already suspect him of trying to kill the Princess once. I fear that being assured he has an heir only embolden him further, endanger her again.

“Can’t you get any proof against him? Prove that he was involved in the attempt?” Obi-Wan frowned. “There has to be something you can do, Qui-Gon, just because Anakin’s exists, it doesn’t mean he’ll accept or obey to any of his grandfather’s orders. Surely, Sheev cannot be counting on that.”

“We’re early enough in the game that he hasn’t fully planned for Anakin yet. That’s why he may be our best shot at catching the Chancellor. But when I brought this up to the Princess, she said that she had already reached that conclusion and decided against it. She will not force him into this political minefield. There is very little doubt in my mind, Obi-Wan, that she loves him too. I’ve known her all her life, this is not some passing infatuation with her savior.”

“Qui-Gon, you’re not going to use a kid who barely knows what he’s getting himself into, to play the Chancellor,” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “Luc would have never allowed that. Shmi will definitely not allow that. Sheev is manipulative. He is venomous. Anakin has a good, safe life in England, just like his father wanted and it is not a good idea to wave him in front of the Chancellor like a treat.”

“Would you rather it find him after the Princess has been killed and his newly-crowned grandfather sends the RSF to drag him from London to Theed?” Qui-Gon asked harshly. “The old man’s ambition won’t be slaked easily, Obi-Wan, we could well be looking at a coup if we don’t act quickly.”

“I left Naboo behind a long time ago.”

“You never renounced your citizenship.”

“Qui-Gon,  _ please. _ ” Obi-Wan groaned. “ _ This. _ This is why I couldn’t stay with Satine, this is why I had to go. Naboo might boast of its democratic ideals, but the politicians make it suffocating and noxious.”

“Which makes protecting the Princess all the more important. She could be magnificent, Obi-Wan. A second Amidala.”

“And Anakin, where does he fall into that perfect picture of yours?” Obi-Wan asked tiredly. “I won’t let him be used. I owe Luc that much. Anakin’s life matters just as much as the Princess’s does.”

“You can always return, you know,” Qui-Gon drawled out. “Support Anakin  _ in  _ Theed. Making sure that Sheev cannot manipulate him. He trusts you, he  _ listens  _ to you. Aren’t you tired of the weather? Of  _ all that rain _ ?”

“Absolutely not. I told you, he cannot be pressured, it will only make him resent me.” Obi-Wan scowled. “I will not do this to him. If he’s going to be involved, it has to be something he chooses for himself. When  _ he’s  _ ready.”

“What if he decides to stay in Theed and help the Princess? All on his own, of course. Will you consider returning for his sake? If he decides that he wants to remain in Naboo and help our Princess, it’s inevitable that they get close. It’s inevitable that they will give in to their feelings and when they do, he’s going to need someone to help him and advise him because his privacy won’t last forever and things will start heating up for him,” Qui-Gon explained. “He looks up to you. He will need you.”

Obi-Wan paused and sipped on the remaining of his drink. “ _ You  _ miss me that much, huh?”

“I consider you family, how could I not miss my family?”

“If Anakin decides that he wants to be in Theed, I’ll consider returning to support him and I’ll do it  _ for  _ him. I know how those people work, what they think and treat foreigners of their status. I will not let him go through what I went through, and I was a simple researcher, working my way up in my field and she was merely part of the upper crust. This is a  _ Princess  _ and a twenty-one-year-old genius who is a teacher’s assistant,” he scoffed. “It sounds absurd when I say it aloud, but you and I both know the realities of this. Anakin will be eaten alive.”

“Then you’d best guard him well.” Qui-Gon hung up before Obi-Wan could make a reply.

“Always so dramatic,” Obi-Wan muttered and looked at his phone. “Luc always said you were the most dramatic of us three.” He decided he would text him.

**Obi-Wan: » Dramatic much?**

**Unknown Number: » I’ll speak with Anakin and try to advise him. That’s all I will do. He has to make the decision himself.**


	7. Dying to Keep

“We’re going the wrong way,” Sabé complained from the front seat of the car.

“I’m following the orders given to me by the Princess,” Qui-Gon retorted. “And  _ you _ are being punished, Tsabin, you’re in no place to be objecting. Are you alright back there, Anakin?” He looked through the car’s rearview mirror to get a better look at the young Englishman. “You’ve been quiet since we left this morning.”

“Apologies if I don’t trust her not to stab something in my neck again and wake up in Russia this time,” Anakin muttered, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the window, watching the scenery pass him by.

“I would never bring you to Russia, I am not a monster,” she grumbled.

“Says the woman who drugged and kidnapped me from my front porch,” he rolled his eyes, face still blank.

“I will not apologize for what needed to be done.”

Anakin snorted. “Yes, this little trip was all everyone needed. We are  _ all  _ so  _ happy  _ right now, aren’t we?” He hissed. “You’re the fairy godmother of everyone’s nightmares.” 

“Tsabin, stop harassing him, or I’ll have no choice but to put you on probation,” Qui-Gon scolded.

“Seriously, she’s not on probation already?” His eyes snapped forward. “She kidnapped me. Kidnap. What did you do? A slap on the wrist and you’re good to go?” He scowled. 

“I’m the Princess’s Shadow, I outrank nearly everyone in the RSF,” she retorted smugly.

“Why did  _ she  _ had to come? Her job is as the  _ Princess’s Shadow,  _ not my bloody nightmare!” Anakin snapped.

“I’m here because the Princess ordered me to be, and to make sure nothing happens to you while you’re with the Chancellor.”

“We’re not going to the Chancellor’s,” Qui-Gon corrected and Anakin frowned. “You were right that we were going the wrong way, I’m taking you to the airport. I managed to make earlier arrangements for your departure than expected.”

“Oh,” he replied quietly, looking down at his hands. “I had accepted to speak with the Chancellor, Qui-Gon,” he said weakly. “I can do that and see if he tells me anything and then you can take me to the airport.”

“The Princess has decided otherwise. She doesn’t want you to be involved or compromise your life for her sake.”

Anakin went quiet as he leaned back in the seat and stared out of the window again. Ever since their kiss the previous day, he hasn’t seen Padmé. One of her aides had found him, taken him to a room and provided him with all he needed: a change of clothes, a private line to speak with whoever he wanted and food. He had barely slept, thinking about the kiss, imagining the conversation with his grandfather, and now, this.

“I see,” he mumbled quietly. “Thank her for me, then.”

“She's going to die, you know,” Qui-Gon said bluntly. “She has an instinct for martyrdom, and the Chancellor is patient. Eventually, he’ll find a way, despite his best efforts. And yet protecting you has become her priority.”

The younger man’s frown deepened as a sudden wave of guilt and nausea hit him. He felt horrible. Everyone seemed to think he could be her savior, but just because he had saved her and missed a bullet once, it didn’t mean it would happen again, it didn’t mean he had all the answers. He was not all powerful, he was a teacher’s assistant, for God’s sake, what did these people see in him?

“ _ Now _ you come around on what I already knew?” Sabé complained from the front seat. “I knew she was in love with him weeks ago! So did her other attendants!” Qui-Gon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

Anakin felt his stomach drop and panic invade him at her words, he kept his eyes firmly in the window, ignoring how glassy they were turning, ignoring how his heart was thundering in his ears.

“Tsabin Minara, enough. I have my orders and I will follow them,” Qui-Gon said stiffly, turning them onto the highway that led to the airport.

“When she dies, her blood will be on  _ both  _ of your hands,” Sabé snapped angrily. Not even  _ if,  _ it was a  _ when _ . Anakin felt paralyzed. “If the Chancellor doesn’t get her, then a broken heart will. This isn’t like the princes and scions she’s dated in the past. She was never even this hung up about that bloody artist.”

“Are we there yet?” Anakin’s voice was strangled and raspy and he didn’t know if he was having a panic attack or if his instinct of survival was making him want to  _ run  _ and jump out of a moving car.

“Ten minutes.” Qui-Gon reached into the glove box and pulled something out, tapping Sabé lightly on the neck. She slumped against the window. “Sedative,” he explained. “Not as strong as what she used on you, it’s more meant for keeping people docile than making them dead weight.

“I’ve been kidnapped enough this weekend, Qui-Gon,” Anakin shifted uncomfortably, having to remove his safety belt in order to feel he could actually breathe. “Can you please,  _ please _ , just drop me off on the airplane? I can’t handle this any longer.”

“I understand. Obi-Wan couldn’t either.”

“No, you don’t,” he cracked, barely listening to the rest. “I’m twenty-one. Twenty-one. Really think about it. Really think about my age and where I come from, now think about what you are  _ trying  _ to shove down my shoulders. You are making me responsible for someone’s life. For a royal’s life,  and I’m nobody. I can’t have that pressure because I don’t have the answers, I don’t know what the hell you want from me. I’m not a superhero, I’m not a spy or security expert. I’m a teacher, damn it, I play with droids and circuits on my free time, I can’t even hold a gun properly,” he didn’t realize tears were streaming down his face. “You are making me the one who’s going to end being responsible for her death,” his voice cracked at the word. “Without even caring about what it does to me.” He shook his head and took some steadying breaths. “I just want to go home. I just want my Mum.”

“You’re not responsible. And I know it doesn’t seem that way, but no one is expecting you to be a superhero.” For a moment, they made eye contact through the rearview mirror. “The Princess has a naturally selfless instinct, she always has. That’s why I believe she needs you. Not to protect her, but to be her friend. Because the reality is, Anakin, you could have an ordinary life here, for a time at least.”

“I can’t be her friend,” he whispered rubbing his temples. “What is ordinary to you? Living in the Royal Palace and spend my time twiddling my thumbs waiting for the big bad wolf to come and blow the house down?”

“I have a house just off the castle grounds. I would be happy to host you and anyone who might come with you. You could continue the work you were proposing when you were earning your doctorate, the crown would fund it quite easily.”

“The crown would pay me to quit my job in London and come and have a pretend position while I try to get the confession out of the Chancellor?” He questioned. “You’re suggesting me to change my  _ entire  _ life.”

“Has it not already been changed?” Qui-Gon pointed out.

“That’s different,” Anakin replied stiffly. “This is uprooting me. Taking me away from my home, my family and friends, my job and expecting me to adapt here without a problem.”

“I’m not saying you  _ have _ to do anything, Anakin. I’m just saying that you could do much more than simply have schoolgirls gawk at you and grade papers.”

Anakin got quiet as he thought it over. Experience abroad was well looked at in someone’s resumé. Being able to work on his thesis and explore the world of artificial intelligence was something he couldn’t deny he has been wanting to do and having that experience funded by the crown and being in a different culture, it would help his career. However, the decision didn’t come to his professional dreams. The decision he had to make was about Padmé. What they were to each other and how could he help her save herself and her crown.

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. “I would like to go home now, please.”

“We’re nearly there.” Qui-Gon took a hand off the wheel to pass him a small card. “You can always change your mind.” He accepted the card and looked down at it. It was a Naboo passport, one declaring his citizenship. Prior to this weekend, he would be freaked out that somehow, Qui-Gon had managed to do it, but now he was just relieved. “We took down all your information after the assassination attempt,” Qui-Gon reminded him. “You’ll be able to get through customs easily now, there’s a debit card in there too.”

“I have my own money, thank you,” he sighed as he found the glossy, new card. “I don’t need yours. Or hers.”

“If you say so.” Anakin just silently passed the card to him. “We simply weren’t sure what Sabé left you.”

“I just need to get on a plane and go home. I’ll have someone pick me up and whatever documents she disposed of, I’ll find myself new ones,” Anakin said. “You could do me a favor and put her in a plane to God knows where and leave her there for a few days. See how she likes the feeling of being helpless.”

“I promise, she’ll be reprimanded further, but unfortunately, we need to keep her around for the Princess’s safety.”

Anakin nodded and looked down at his new passport. “Do keep her safe, Qui-Gon and try not to let her martyrdom get in the way of that.”

“I will do my best to guard her body, but I can’t do very much about her heart.”

He swallowed down his emotions to be able to form a coherent sentence. “I’m not what she needs. I’m not what this country needs. It hurts now, but it will heal.”

“No, she won’t,” Sabé mumbled.

“You live,” Anakin said dryly. “Qui-Gon, have we arrived?” 

“So it would seem.” He pulled to a stop in front of a terminal gate. “Have a safe flight, Anakin.”

“You don’ have to marry her, just love her. She needs love,” Sabé babbled as Anakin opened the car door.

Anakin hesitated. “I do love her, Sabé, and that is something I can no longer deny. However, I would only bring her pain. I don’t fit into her world. It’s not for me. This life is not who I am. I would disappoint her and make her go through more hardship and I don’t wish for that to happen. She’ll understand one day,” he left the car and closed the door.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want a heavier coat? Don’t be fooled, it can be chilly there,” Shmi said, rummaging through Anakin’s closet.

“Sure, Mum, just add it to the suitcase,” he replied distractedly as he slowly closed one box with duct tape and labeled it ‘fragile’. 

He was actually going to do it. Move to Naboo, to Theed. Drop his life in London for a few months in a country that could possibly suffer a political coup. Ever since he made the decision, his confidence over it has wavered. Some days he felt good and excited about moving. Others, he would be in a constant state of panic and anxiety.

His mother and Obi-Wan have been essential for him to keep his sanity and the conversations they both had with him regarding the situation of Naboo had helped him make a final decision.

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you, though,” he frowned as he picked up a frame of a picture of them and set it down on an empty box.

“You’re following the path you chose, Ani. I can’t say I’m not worried about you, but you’re old enough now that I have to trust you.”

“I don’t even trust myself but…” he sighed and grabbed a few more frames. There was one of Ahsoka who, since she learned he was moving away, had stopped speaking with him, stating he was abandoning her. “I’ll try to be as careful as I can.”

“I know you will. And I hope you’ll be back home soon. For a visit, if not for good.”

“I’ll stay in Naboo until they are no longer under threat and of course I’ll return home after that,” he said.

“Maybe bring back a girlfriend whose name you actually know,” she teased.

“Not you too,” he groaned. “This is not that kind of trip.”

“I suppose not, but Naboo is a very beautiful, romantic country.”

“My grandfather is threatening to kill the Princess and  _ that  _ is what you think I will focus on?” He lifted one eyebrow. “I will be very lucky if I return home still looking young and not like I aged three decades.”

“I’m trying very hard not to think about such things so that I don’t decide to truss you up like a Christmas goose and keep you here.”

Anakin sighed and dropped down on his bed. “I wish you would,” he whispered. “What am I doing?” He muttered hiding his head in his hands.

“What your father would have.”

“Don’t know much about that one, do I?”

“He was fearless, and he was loving,” she admitted with a smile, pulling out her locket and opening it for him to see the photo inside. “And reckless, and headstrong, and loyal.”

“I am anything but fearless right now,” he whispered, looking at the locket. It was like looking into a slightly warped mirror, the resemblance was uncanny. “I’m terrified. I’m completely and absolutely terrified.”

“He could be that too. But he always overcame it. I’m sure you will too.”

“Let’s hope so or I’m just killing her faster,” he muttered, standing up so he could finish putting his things in boxes.

There was a loud bang from the hallway. “Turn on the news!” Obi-Wan shouted, rushing into Anakin’s room breathlessly. “It’s on every network.”

Frantic, Anakin grabbed the remote in his bedside table and turned on his television, navigating to the BBC. He paled as he began reading the headlines and felt his body temperature drop drastically, as a cold fear invaded him.

“This attack comes just months after a sniper attempted to assassinate the Princess of Theed. While most details are being kept from the press, we have managed to confirm that she remains unharmed. All those caught in the blast have been taken to the Royal Hospital—”

“There was an explosion as they were entering their motorcade,” Obi-Wan explained, hitting mute so that he could. Anakin was shaking. “I heard it on the radio as I was driving home and came straight here. My guess is she was already in the car. Before her parents entered.”

“Oh, my God,” Shmi whispered in horror. “Anakin…”

“I know,” he said taking a deep, steadying breath. “I’m leaving tonight.”

“You may want to check with the airline, in a national crisis like this, the airport might well be shut down,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“Qui-Gon,” he said as an explanation. “He’ll make it happen,” he grabbed his phone. “But I need to see her. I need to be with her.”

“Then go now, with what you’ve already packed,” Shmi said, clearly trying to stay calm. “I’ll have the rest of your things shipped.”

“I’ll drive you,” Obi-Wan offered. “Come on.”

Anakin kissed his mother's forehead. “I'll be fine, I promise. I'll call you, every day.”

“I know you will,” Shmi sighed. “Go now.”

 

* * *

“Your Highness, you must stop pacing.”

“Is there  _ any _ news?” Padmé interrupted, ignoring the advice of the aide next to her. She didn’t know who it was, she was too focused on her parents.

“They are still in surgery. We must wait,” Eirtaé replied. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just get me news,  _ any _ news!” Padmé repeated desperately. They couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t be, she wasn’t ready!

“Princess, I have a call you might wish to take—”

“Not now!”

“Please.” Qui-Gon pressed his cellphone into her hand. “Talk to him.” Padmé scowled, preparing to throw the phone at the wall when she heard the voice on the other end.

“They will be fine,” it was the first thing Anakin remembered to say, reassurance. “You need to believe they will be fine.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed further, “Padmé?”

“Anakin,” she whispered breathlessly. “I’m scared. It all happened so fast.”

“I know. I know you are, but you have to be strong. For your parents, for your people. They need to see you well. I am sure the doctors are doing their very best to save your parents and soon, you’ll have news,” he said in a soothing voice.

“I keep asking, but they won’t say what’s going on,” she told him frantically. “My head is spinning, I vomited twice, I can’t… I can’t let anybody touch me. I feel like a bomb about to go off.”

“Have they checked you, yet? You might have a concussion. You need to let a doctor observe you,” he said worriedly.

“They already did. I’m just shaken,” she promised. “I’m not ready to be Queen.”

“You are ready to do anything you put your mind to, and you won’t do it alone. You’re not alone. You need to let Eirtaé and Sabé take care of you now. Go home, eat and get some rest. I am sure that whenever they have news for you, they will tell you immediately.”

“I wish you were here.” It slipped out unbidden, and her face flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“I will be in a couple of hours.” He said with a small smile in his voice. “I am just waiting for the plane that Qui-Gon arranged for me. Can you handle a few hours?”

“I’ll try. Anakin,” she swallowed. “If they die, this won’t be an investigation. It’ll be a war.”

“There won’t be a war, they will be safe. You can’t think the worst right now. You have to focus on the fact that they will recover and what you are doing while they do.” 

“Hurry,” she implored softly. “I need you.”

“I’ll be there soon,” he assured her. “I promise. This time I won’t leave you.”


	8. Prove to Me

Despite it being the early hours of the morning in Naboo when the plane landed, Qui-Gon was there to meet him, along with a few young women who looked slightly like Padmé but were definitely not Sabé much to Anakin’s relief. 

“Have there been any news on her parents?” Anakin asked as he shook the older man’s hand and nodded at the girls. “Are they out of danger?”

“Comatose right now,” Qui-Gon answered in a clipped voice. “This is Yané Hulare and Rabé Saltro, they also serve the Princess. We’ll be returning to the Palace immediately, the Princess wants to brief you.”

Rabé’s lips twitched a little, but Yané remained stoic as she took Anakin’s bag. “Quickly, if you please,” she said with an accent that tended more towards French than anything else. “The borders are completely closed, they will be locking down the airport entirely once we’ve departed.”

“Thank you,” Anakin nodded in understanding. “Also, Qui-Gon,” he turned to the security expert. “Obi-Wan said he might take you up on your offer. I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted?”

“He was an early member of our cyber division,” Qui-Gon explained as the four of them left the airport, heading for the usual sleek black car, “until he made the call to enter the private sector.”

“Did he know him? My father, I mean. Did Obi-Wan know him?” Anakin asked curiously.

“He was only fifteen when your father died, but yes, they knew one another. I assume he said nothing at your mother’s behest.”

Anakin nodded. “I see.  When this has all calmed down, I would like for you to tell me about him,” he asked. “You were his cousin, weren’t you?

“Yes.”

“Were you close?”

“He was the nearest thing to a brother I knew.”

“So you are basically my Uncle,” Anakin teased. “What about Obi-Wan? What is your connection with him?”

“His parents separated when he was young, and he lived with his mother here for a time, next door to me. When she passed away, he stayed with me until we could make the arrangements with his father in England. Obi-Wan decided that he liked me enough to continue his summers in Naboo.”

“It’s funny, though,” Anakin started thoughtfully. “He never mentioned you or Naboo to me and I’ve known Obi-Wan since I was nine. He was a mentor to me,” he paused. “A father figure.”

“Life is odd that way,” Qui-Gon agreed lightly as Yané placed the suitcase in the trunk of the car. “Get in, we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Anakin agreed. He knew there was more to the story but there were other priorities in his mind and one of them, was getting to Padmé. “You’re right,” he nodded as he entered the car, Qui-Gon right after him. Yané and Rabé took the front seats, Yané at the driver’s seat. “At least you didn’t bring Sabé, I am thankful for that.”

“She’s not leaving the Princess’s side,” Rabé explained. “We’re all willing to die for the Princess, but it’s Sabé’s actual job as the Princess’s Shadow.”

“Except when she’s kidnapping people,” he muttered as he buckled his seatbelt. 

“In times of crisis,” Qui-Gon amended. “And I would suggest you try to let go of that anger towards her now, Anakin, you two will be colleagues.”

Anakin shot him an incredulous look. “You’re joking.”

“We’re all working to secure the safety of our future Queen. You two  _ will _ inevitably interact, and it would be better if you were not at each other’s throats.”

“Just get me to the Palace and give me the rest of the bad news after I had breakfast and a few hours of sleep,” he groaned. “And see Padmé, of course. You get the idea…”

Rabé giggled outright. “Oh, we do.”

He frowned at them before turning to Qui-Gon with an inquisitive look on his face. Qui-Gon shrugged and turned to the window so Anakin couldn’t see his smirk.

* * *

Padmé stirred, sitting up in bed as she heard someone knocking at the door. Reaching in between her mattress and headboard, she pulled out the pistol she kept hidden. “Who’s there?”

“Padmé?” Anakin’s quiet voice called quietly. “Rabé and Yané said it would be alright for me to come so early to bother you, could I come in?”

Blushing, she put the gun back in its hiding place and grabbed the thick marigold bathrobe hanging on her bedpost, wrapping it around herself as she moved to the door. “You’re here,” she gasped in relief, pulling it open and hugging him tightly.

Instinctively, he wrapped her in his embrace and kissed her temple. “Like I promised,” he whispered. “How are you?” He pulled away enough to stare at her face, cradling the side of it with one of his hands.

“Terrified,” she admitted, shepherding him into the room and turning on the lights with a clap of her hands. “But better, now that you’re here.”

“Of course, I came as soon as I heard,” he smiled. “I needed to see you were safe for myself. I wish I had been here but my official move was not scheduled until a week from now.”

“Physically, I’m fine, but I’m shaken. My sister’s family is en route, but the entire country is on lockdown now.”

“What can I do for you, really?” He asked, squeezing her shoulders. “I’m here, but, I just feel useless, I don’t even know what to say in these situations.”

She moved in for another hug and let out a long sigh. “Being here is enough, really.”

Anakin nodded and held her tightly for a long time. “Alright. I’m here. As long as you need me.”

“We can talk about what happens next in the morning.”

“I shouldn’t have woken you,” he sighed. “I will go to my rooms and we can speak in the morning then.”

“Stay,” she whispered, catching his wrist. “Please. I can’t be alone right now.”

He hesitated but nodded, slowly. “I’ll stay. I’ll sleep on the couch if that’s alright.” She nodded slowly, looking slightly disappointed as she sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through her hair. “Unless you don’t mind me sharing your bed?” He questioned as she saw her disappointed look.

“This isn’t the middle ages, Anakin, you won’t be compromising my virtue.”

“Well, yes, but I am not just going to assume I can sleep in your bed without your permission. It’s not right.” Anakin replied defensively, taking off his jacket, shoes, and socks.

“You’re a gentleman and a sweetheart,” she laughed. “It’s fine, Anakin.”

He blushed a light pink. “I was raised as such,” he stripped until he was only in his t-shirt and boxers. “I want you to be comfortable. That’s all.”

Padmé nodded, keeping the robe on to account for the silk slip she was wearing underneath. “I want the same for you.”

Anakin nodded and slipped under her sheets and leaned against the headboard. “Come here,” he said softly. She nodded, lifting her feet off the floor and moving closer until there were maybe six inches between the two of them.

“You’ll go home as soon as we can manage,” she promised, reaching out and running a hand through his hair. “So your mother doesn’t miss you.”

He gave her a mischievous smile. “Qui-Gon didn’t tell you that the Palace was hiring a new expert in cybersecurity and communications? Focusing on artificial intelligence?”

“I was not made aware of that information. And I had wondered a little why you were so ready to come to Naboo. Though I put it aside for thinking about my parents.”

“It was supposed to be a good surprise and not under these circumstances,” Anakin explained, taking her hand. “I accepted Qui-Gon’s suggesting for many reasons, but my main concern was you. I wanted to help you overcome this situation and if I can have any leverage over the Chancellor, I’ll use it. What matters is your safety,” he explained. “This way, I am part of your security team, I am able to be useful. I won’t be just someone who hangs around and expects to be of importance.”

“You’re staying?” That was all she could really process.

“As long as I am needed,” he replied.

“That could be a while.” She placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

He covered her hand with his own. “We’ll have time,” he didn’t want to upset her by saying what he thought was going to happen, that she’d eventually need someone more mature and more aware of the country’s needs, her royal needs. She would eventually realize, he was not good enough. But for now, she needed  _ him  _ and he was  _ there  _ and that was what Anakin was going to focus on. “We should get some sleep.”

“I suppose so.’ She turned her hand so that their palms were facing and their fingers were intertwined and squeezed tightly. “Good night, Anakin. And thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Sleep tight, your Highness,” he smiled teasingly at her.

“ _ Padmé,” _ she reminded him.

“Hmm, we can discuss that in the morning too,” he snickered. Padmé rolled her eyes and clapped again, shutting the lights off. “I  _ cannot  _ believe you clap,” he muttered amusedly into the darkness.

“ _ Good night, Anakin _ .”

* * *

Anakin awoke to Padmé spooning him. He was surrounded by her perfume and he felt complete bliss for a moment before reality crashed into him and made him sigh. He didn’t move, wanting her to rest as much as possible, it would not be an easy day for either of them. He concentrated on hearing her relaxed breathing and her arms around him, tightly, as if she were afraid he would disappear in the middle of the night. Her head rocked slightly and she opened her eyes, smiling at him softly. “ _ Buon giorno. _ ”

“ _ Bonjour,” _ he replied in French with a sleepy smile. “You feel any better?”

“A little. You’re warm. And you smell like sunshine.”

He laughed. “Sunshine. The one inexistent thing in London,” his blue eyes were amused. “You smell like lotus flowers.”

“My signature.” She giggled, slowly pulling away from him and rolling out of bed.

“We can’t ignore this day and stay in bed, talking, doing absolutely nothing, can we?” He turned so he was facing the ceiling.

“I might not have my schedule for the day yet, but I’ve no doubt there will be several public appearances required of me to talk about my parents,” she said, her voice growing muffled.

“I’ll be meeting the Chancellor for tea after I am settled at Qui-Gon’s house and my new workplace,” he sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Padmé emerged from a walk-in closet he’d missed earlier, now wearing a black and white checked dress.

“You have other clothes, I hope?” she asked, opening a panel in the wall to inspect a collection of shoes.

“This time around, I did bring my suitcase, I just need one of your girls to tell me where it is,” he raised his eyebrows.

“There should be one of them in the suite any minute now to ask me about breakfast,” she said, picking out a pair of heels.

“I didn’t know your room doubled as a clothes store,” he teased.

“You haven’t even seen the makeup in my bathroom,” she laughed. “It’s quite extensive.”

At the same time he laughed, there was a knock on the door. “Good morning, your Highness, it’s Eirtaé. May I come in? I have your agenda and Mr. Skywalker’s suitcase,” the last few words were said with a snicker that made Anakin roll his eyes.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a shower,” he shoved the covers aside and stood up. “I don’t fancy having one of your shadows stare at me meaningfully,” he sighed as he entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He did a double take at the marble counters. She wasn’t kidding about the makeup, it covered nearly half the countertop.

“The linen closet’s to your left,” Padmé called from the bedroom. “You can find towels in there. Feel free to use what’s already in the shower for washing. You can come in, Eirtaé.”

“Good morning, Princess,” Eirtaé smiled as she entered the room and set the black, medium-sized suitcase next to the door as she closed it. She looked around the room curiously. “How was your night?”

“Fine,” Padmé replied as she twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head and started pinning it in place. “As fine as it can be with my parents in their condition, has there been any kind of improvement?”

“Not as of yet. I’ve got your morning booked. After breakfast, you’ll be making a televised address to the country before meeting with the press. The RSF is questioning foreigners right now, in the hopes of letting those who had plans to leave return home as quickly as possible, we’ll let you know if we learn anything. And Lady Sola’s scheduled to arrive with her family this afternoon.”

“Anakin will need a briefing before he goes to see the Chancellor, I want him as prepared as possible.”

“Qui-Gon has already prepared a session for Mr. Skywalker,” Eirtaé replied, she heard the shower start running and smiled. “I hope his presence helped your well-being? We were all very worried. We still are.”

“I’m not going to burst into tears during the broadcast if that’s what worries you. I can handle this.”

“No one would blame you for being emotional, your Highness,” she pointed out. “The accident was yesterday and your parents are still in the hospital, comatose. You have every right to be upset.”

“Every loyal citizen will be upset. It’s my duty to be strong for them,” Padmé pointed out. “There’ll be makeup artists available for the broadcast, yes?”

“Of course, but—”

“Good.” Padmé paused to scribble a quick note for when Anakin finished showering, giving him directions to the dining room for breakfast. “Then they can put my face on after I’ve eaten something,  let’s go.”

“After you, your Highness,” Eirtaé stepped back with a sigh. “We will be ready to depart when you are.”

* * *

 

“Nervous, are you?” The driver today wasn’t Qui-Gon, but a wrinkled old man with big ears and a height so diminutive, it was surprising that he could reach the pedals. “A strange thing it is, meeting the Chancellor like this.”

“It’s a personal matter,” Anakin replied curtly.

“Hmm. Know the Chancellor’s brother, I do. And Qui-Gon. Taught them both,” the old man informed him. “And Luc Palpatine. Good men. Reckless. Impulsive.” The car pulled to a stop in front of a Roman-looking building

“You knew Luc Palpatine?” Anakin questioned, his interest in the small man piqued. “What was he like?”

“Not his father,” the old man muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, little of his father in him. Good man, good soldier.”

“That’s good,” he smiled softly. “Thank you, Mr…? I didn’t catch your name before we left.”

“Yoda,” he answered. “ _ Master _ Yoda.”

“What kind of Master are you?”

“Train the Security Forces, I have. Many, many years, many wars, many students.” He gave a wheezing chuckle. “Good for my age, I look.”

“Should you still be driving?” Anakin raised his eyebrows. 

“Hmph. Perhaps walking back, you would prefer?” Yoda countered, turning around and rattling a gnarled cane at Anakin. “Respect for your elders, you should have.”

“I'm sorry, Master Yoda, I meant no disrespect. I will be leaving now, thank you for bringing me here,” he said, alarmed, opening the car door.

“Wait for you, I will. Bring you to Qui-Gon when you are done,” Yoda informed him before the door closed and he drove off. Anakin was left staring at the Parliament of Naboo. It wasn’t as impressive as the one in London, but it was still impressive. Most of the windows had the curtains shut, but there was one, right above the archway, that had its drapes wide open. Probably the Chancellor’s office. Which meant that’s where he was going.

He entered the building and went through security. After the motorcade accident, it was tight. There was an assistant that offered to take him to the Chancellor and Anakin accepted. He followed her into an elevator and went through the briefing he received from Qui-Gon in his head. 

He hoped he was prepared.

“Young Anakin!” The Chancellor practically materialized at the end of the hallway, striding towards him with open arms and a smile that was a hair too wide. “I must admit I was both surprised and delighted to hear of your return to our fair country and your interest in seeing me. Please, please, come this way.”

“Thank you for receiving me in such short notice, Chancellor, I know how your schedule must be busy, especially with what happened yesterday to their Majesties,” Anakin reciprocated the smile, hoping to feel genuine. “I don’t wish to take much of your time.”

“Nonsense, my boy, with their Majesties in such dire condition, my schedule is rather clear, at least for the day.” Palpatine placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder as he came closer, guiding him back towards the office. “Today, all eyes are on our dear Princess. Poor child, she must be so distraught.”

The Chancellor’s office was decorated in the same macabre kind of fashion as his house had been when Anakin had last visited. The open windows did very little to make it look at all cheery.

“Both of her parents are still at risk, I can only imagine what she must be feeling. If it was me, I would want the guilty party to be held accountable and suffer the same way. Such violent attacks are despicable. Don’t you agree, Chancellor? Actions must be taken, surely investigations are still ongoing, especially after my last visit,” Anakin said as he accepted Palpatine’s invitation to sit across from him.

“I am doing my very best to be supportive in this crisis,” Palpatine answered, taking a crystal pitcher of water and pouring two glasses, offering one to Anakin. “But these assassins are very cunning and cautious. Is that not why you are here now? You were recruited for your cybernetic skills by my nephew?”

“Yes, he believes my research on artificial intelligence and new security methods over our communications and home systems will provide not only insight into this investigation but also fortify the Palace’s security on the royal family. I have developed several programs to increase online security and communications privacy as well as a top of the line facial recognition software and a smart program that allows you to save a lot of time in research and manual investigation,” he took a small sip. “I guess you can say I’m an overachiever,” he added sheepishly.

“A prodigy,” Palpatine corrected. “I’m sure your parents are very proud of you for accomplishing so much at such a tender age.”

“My Mum surely is. She gets to brag that her twenty-one-year-old has a Ph.D. already,” he chuckled. “I have never met my father, however, he died before I was born.”

Palpatine ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “About your father, Anakin.”

“I already have been told, Chancellor,” Anakin said with a solemn look. “My mother has told me everything. That’s part of the reason I have accepted the job with Qui-Gon. I wanted to know my roots, I wanted, well,” he bit his lower lip, nervously, “I wanted to know you and through you, my father.”

“Then I think that we need not stand on such formality, my dear boy, you may call me whatever makes you most comfortable. I would be glad to tell you about Lucien.”

“I will try to be less formal, I promise, it’s a matter of habit,” he smiled. “Mum told me I look like him. Sound like him too. I know he was a pilot and died in a plane crash and I’ve heard he was a good man, but there is so much more that I would like to know and I don’t even know where to start.”

“He was something of a prodigy himself, as much as one can be in a nation that prizes the innocence and capabilities of youth,” Palpatine mused. “One of the finest cadets ever seen in the Royal Security forces, his colleagues used to say he could fly anything. I was so very proud of him. It pained me when he was first assigned to the Embassy in England, but there was little I could do. He was never very interested in the family business.”

“He sounds like the father I have always dreamed of. To be aware that I will never be able to meet him, it pains me,” he sighed. “Politics, you mean?” Anakin asked.

“Indeed. Without fail, there has been a Palpatine in Parliament since the reign of the first Queen Amidala in the sixteenth century.”

“You will be disappointed to hear I am not much of a political man myself,” he said apologetically. 

“Perhaps if you had grown up here, things would have been different,” Palpatine mused. “It pains me to know that I missed seeing you grow up. My only grandchild. The last remnant of a son I miss dearly every day.”

“The important thing is that I am here now and I would very much enjoy spending time with you, grandfather,” Anakin stated. “To learn more about you and your vision. I know you are highly respected in Naboo. I know I can still learn a lot from you. Maybe I can start enjoying politics,” he chuckled.

“Perhaps,” agreed Palpatine, leaning forward in his chair. “But I think you’re just trying to make an old man happy. It’s kind of you, and very like your father.”

“I will surprise you,” he beamed. “I have a mind that needs to be occupied and learning at all times. Learning more about our family’s place in Naboo’s history and how can I, perhaps, continue that, is something that I truly desire.” 

“I would be only too happy to teach you all I have to offer. I have heard you were staying with Qui-Gon. Are you certain you would not prefer to reside with me? Spend more time bonding as a family?”

“We can see about my living arrangements with time. For now, and since I am starting this job with Qui-Gon, it’s easier for me to be living with him and be close to my workplace. Once I get more comfortable, maybe, we can see about changing,” Anakin replied easily, since Qui-Gon had warned him it would be a question Palpatine would make. If the old man was disappointed, he hid it well.

“Of course. No need to rush things, after all.” Palpatine opened a jar on his desk, releasing the scent of flowers and sugar. “Would you care for a five blossom biscuit? These were your father’s favorite as a boy.”

“I would accept one, yes,” he answered. “May I ask you a question? I mean, it might be inappropriate, I wouldn’t want to be misunderstood, so I haven’t placed it before Qui-Gon.”

“By all means, Anakin, there should be no secrets between us,” the Chancellor reassured him, passing over one of the biscuits. “What is it you want to know?”

“What will happen if the Queen and the King don’t survive?” He took one biscuit and nipped at it.

“God forbid such a thing happens, the Princess will ascend the throne. There will be a coronation after the proper mourning for her father has been observed,” Palpatine answered, oddly calm about it. Or not that oddly, if Qui-Gon and Padmé’s theory was correct. “And there will be an election to determine an interim successor.”

“The interim successor, until the Princess has her own heir, correct?”

“Precisely. The position is hopefully temporary, as the Princess will presumably marry and have children of her own, but it has been used a few times over the centuries, for one reason or another.”

“If the Princess does not feel ready to be crowned, with all the events that have transpired, what of the monarchy then?” Anakin finished his biscuit and took another one. He had gone over these questions with Qui-Gon, they served to show his own interest over what would come next and make Palpatine feel a bit more secure, speaking with him of such affairs. “It’s such a small family, you have to wonder.”

“If the Princess chose to abdicate, that would force a more permanent election. Ironically, her brother-in-law could choose to be a candidate then, which would restore her young nieces to the line of succession, but I doubt the Lady Sola would allow such a thing,” Palpatine mused. “The new monarch would most likely be a representative from Parliament, someone with experience, and preferably with a large family to avoid such a crisis again.”

“Someone like you, for example?” Anakin asked naturally as he sipped his drink. “I’ve heard you are the most experienced politician in Naboo, surely you would be more than fit for the position.”

“I would assume whatever duties the people would wish me to take,” Palpatine answered serenely. “Though I’m certain my age and the size of my family would be seen as detractors by some of the more inexperienced members of our honored Parliament.”

“You have me now,” Anakin pointed out. “But, these are all ‘what if’ situations. I am sure the King and Queen will make a full recovery and the Princess will take the throne in due time. It’s no use to suffer for anticipation but thank you for indulging me in my curiosity.”

“I would also not presume to force a coronet on your head, my boy, you’ve grown up as a British citizen all your life. Our ways are unfamiliar to you.”

“That’s why I am here, grandfather, to learn about the ways of my father’s land.”

“Well, then we must hope that His Majesty makes a full recovery, as well as the Queen Consort so that you have plenty of time to learn properly.”

“Yes, let’s pray so,” Anakin agreed. “Please, tell me more about my father. I am sure you have plenty of histories.”

 

* * *

“How did it go?” Anakin’s mood was ruined almost instantly by the sound of Sabé’s voice as he stepped into Qui-Gon’s house. The royal doppelganger was sitting with her feet up on the couch with a tablet in hand. “Did you get anything?”

“Very well,” he says dryly. “I asked him about wanting to murder the royal family and such, you know, typical things you speak about in your first grandfather and grandson encounter. We plan to have brunch next Saturday and discuss conquering the world. How was your day?”

Without a word, Sabé took one of the pillows off the couch and flung it straight at his head. Anakin easily dodged it.

“Who kicked you when you were a child?”

“I am not losing my best friend because you’re treating this like a joke, Skywalker,” she snapped. “I’ve been by her side since we were girls, we’re practically sisters. You can hate me all you want for my actions, but I won’t apologize for trying to help her.”

“You could have asked me to go to Naboo, not straight up drugged me and dragged me across Europe,” Anakin snapped. “If you had  _ carefully  _ and  _ tactfully  _ explained the situation to me, we could have reached an agreement of sorts.”

“I don’t think you would’ve been brave enough to do what needed to be done.”

“Why, you—”

“Both of you, enough,” Qui-Gon said gruffly, emerging from the kitchen. “We are all working towards the same goal. You should act like it.”

“I  _ am _ acting like it. I asked him to report, and he made a quip,” Sabé complained.

“Anakin, would you be willing to share what went on between you and the Chancellor today?”

“Yes, thank you, Qui-Gon, I would be delighted to share my conversation with the Chancellor,” Anakin replied and glared at Sabé. “That’s how you ask. Take notes.”

“I’m recording this,” she said, waving the tablet at him.

“Report,” Qui-Gon prompted again.

Anakin sighed and sat down, giving a quick rundown of the conversation he’d had with the Chancellor that afternoon, and the questions that were made and the answers received. A few times during the recap, Sabé raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “I followed the plan and didn’t press on certain subjects too much as to not sound suspicious or trained,” Anakin finished. “I think, from his perspective, it was a productive meeting. He thinks we were able to connect and bond and that will be useful for the following weeks. I think he will begin to trust me.”

“You did well. It was a risk to broach the subject of you as his heir this early in the game, but it seems to have paid off for now. Stay on your guard,” Qui-Gon said, stroking his beard in thought. “My uncle can be charming when he wants to be—” The phone at his hip rang and he raised it to his ear. “Jinn.” His face became stony. “Understood. My team and I are on our way.”

“What is it, what’s happened?” Sabé asked, setting down her tablet.

“Get your things, we need to go.”

“Qui-Gon, who was that?”

“Typho,” Qui-Gon answered, crossing to the door and grabbing his keys. “We’re all needed at Parliament, the Princess is calling an emergency session. Her father’s condition has worsened.”


	9. Inside My Room

_ Breathe. Just breathe.  _ Padmé paced the full perimeter of the antechamber. She’d be in Parliament in a matter of minutes, maybe less, she needed to be calm. No matter how much she wanted to cry right now, she had to present a serene front.

“Papa is going to be fine,” she told herself mechanically. “Maman is going to be fine.”

“Princess,” Eirtaé prompted, stepping closer with a box in hand. “They’re ready for you.” Padmé swallowed and lifted the lid of the box, taking out the silver and diamond tiara that rested inside. Once she’d placed it on her head, Eirtae adjusted it slightly, then smoothed out a few imaginary wrinkles in the jacket she was wearing over her checked dress. “Go.”

“Right,” Padmé whispered.  _ You can do this. _ She’d seen her father address Parliament, she could do this. She  _ had _ to do this.

Normally, a monarch stepping out into the Parliamentary Rotunda would be greeted by a standing ovation. But today, the members of Parliament rose in a grave, deadly silence. Padmé scanned the full rotunda, looking for any familiar face, any friendly face, and her eyes finally found the clear blue gaze of Anakin. He was standing with Qui-Gon, Sabé, and other members of the RSF in the upper galleries. She let her lips spread ever so slightly as she looked at him, then ducked her head as she made the last few steps to the podium at the center of the rotunda.

“On behalf of this esteemed body, I welcome you to this hallowed hall, Padmé of the House Naberrie, Princess of Theed,” Palpatine intoned from his own pulpit, just beside her, but slightly lower. Padmé nodded, giving her permission for the assembly to sit, which they did.

“Most honored members of Parliament, who represent the will of our people and our country, I am humbled to be in your presence,” she recited. “I am sure by now many of you have heard the news of my beloved father, King Ruwee’s condition. No one prays more than I do that both his Majesty, and my mother, the Queen Consort, will make a full recovery. But we must not allow this tragedy to drive us into devastation, to grant those who would wish us harm the result they want. Naboo stands. Naboo will not defer, we will not yield.”

There was a round of applause as she paused to take a breath and swallowed. Were Sola and her family watching from the Palace?

“To that end, I announce my assumption of the Regency, as is my right and duty as the Princess of Theed, my father’s heir. Though I know we all pray my true coronation as your Queen is far off in the future, this must be done now, for the good of the nation. I swear to you that I will serve with the loyalty and dedication I have been taught to uphold, and I ask you now for your support, as the voices our citizens have chosen to represent them.”

“All those willing to approve the Princess of Theed’s regency should now signify so,” Palpatine said. There was a long, low rumbling of affirmatives in every language spoken in Naboo, primarily  _ sì, oui,  _ and yes, but she might have heard a few other languages mixed in. “And are there any who would deny her?” Palpatine prompted.

The silence was deafening. No one wanted to say a word against her, and whether it was for fear of disrespecting her absent parents, or simply respect for her, she didn’t care. It was a minor boost to her morale. “Padmé of the House Naberrie, Princess of Theed, it is the decision of this Parliament to recognize you as Princess Regent,” Palpatine proclaimed with all the grandeur required as he stood and bowed to her. The rest of the assembly followed suit, and Padmé inclined her head in response.

“We thank you, my Lord Chancellor,” she said, switching to the royal  _ we,  _ and deeper, more formal voice. “And now adjourn this session. We will see you all in the morning, at which time, we will resume our duties to the state.” She then turned and walked back to the antechamber as quickly as she could without seeming rude. 

Once she was safely inside with the door closed, she stripped off her jacket and removed her tiara, breathing heavily to alleviate how overheated she suddenly felt.

A couple of minutes later, there was a light knock on the door that didn’t wait for an invitation as Sabé, Eirtaé, Qui-Gon and Anakin crowded the room.

“Princess, are you alright?” Eirtaé rushed to Padmé’s side. “You did very well out there, we are all proud of you. You just need to breathe, alright?”

Sabé was already arranging a glass of water and brought it to Padmé’s trembling hands. “Here, drink this, it will help soothe your nerves.”

Anakin stood at Qui-Gon’s side, not wanting to surround her, he knew what panic was and looked like and he didn’t enjoy having too many people around him when it happened. Padmé was already being crowded by Sabé and Eirtaé and he didn’t want to put more pressure on her.

“It all went fine, Princess, your father would have been proud,” Qui-Gon stated calmly.

“I shouldn’t be having to do this,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t…he was  _ right there.  _ I know it’s him, but we have no proof yet, and I just…” She paused and rushed over to the wastebasket, fully ready to vomit. Nothing happened, but the nausea remained, and she let out a sob.

“Can you all leave me alone with her, please?” Anakin requested quietly. Sabé scowled.

“I’m not—”

“Go,” Padmé cut her off. “Please.”

Eirtaé nudged Sabé out of the door, the Princess’s Shadow not enjoying being dismissed in such a way, but she couldn’t deny a direct order. Qui-Gon followed them and closed the door behind him.

Alone, Anakin sighed and came to her side, gently touching her shoulder. “Come here, you’re fine now, you did very well,” he spoke in a calm, gentle voice and he tugged her to him, for a comforting hug where he could wrap his arms around her and just hold her, safely.

“I’m scared, I’m scared,” she mumbled into his shirt. “I’m not ready.”

“You are ready, but you are scared and I know what that feels like,” he said. “Your parents will eventually recover, Padmé, I’m certain and the Chancellor will be brought to justice. I am so sorry about the pain he has caused you. To know I am his descendant makes me feel partially guilty for all of this and I will do my best to help you in any way I am able to.”

“Just hold me,” she whispered, pressing her hand over his heart, just as she had the night before. “I need there to be nothing but you and me right now.”

“There isn’t,” he said into her hair, closing his eyes. “Right now, there isn’t,” he mumbled again but he knew that there would always be something besides them both. Her crown, her responsibilities. The life she had grown up preparing herself to have. Running a country, guaranteeing peace among her people. He could indulge her, for now, make her feel safe for as long as he could. “Would you like to do something today? A fencing match, perhaps? I have been told you are fond of them as stress relievers,” he smirked.

“Maybe,” she agreed, looking up at him with a soft smile. “I’d like that. If you get Qui-Gon, we can go back to the Palace now. I might have to talk to my sister and her family first though. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, I will wait for you at the gym. Be with your family for as long as you need it,” he kissed her forehead. “I’ll speak with Qui-Gon to drive us back to the Palace.”

“Thank you.” She slowly got to her feet, crossing back to get her jacket and her crown. “I’ll meet you in the car out front, I have to go out through the main entrance in case the press want me.”

“Understood,” he nodded. “I’ll see you in the car.”

* * *

As he knew Padmé could take a while speaking with her sister, Anakin geared up and began practicing. Last time they fenced, it had been fun and it had reminded him why he had enjoyed it so much and that he should practice more, especially if he were to spar with the Princess again. He lost track of time, training until he heard the door of the gym opening and he stopped and turned around, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his glove.

“How did it go?” He asked, nearly breathless.

“The girls are worried, but that’s not surprising, they’ve never experienced anything this extreme before,” Padmé answered as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and her eyes went up and down his body. “You didn’t tire yourself out too much, I hope. I don’t want to win  _ too  _ quickly.”

“I’ve been practicing since we arrived, I think I can handle you,” he chuckled. “Last time I nearly had you if you hadn’t  _ cheated. _ ”

She gasped in mock offense. “How dare you impugn my honor, monsieur, I would never!”

“Then let’s do this one honorably, mademoiselle,” he quipped lightly. “Are you prepared?”

She picked up an épée from the weapons rack and spun it casually. “If you think you can handle me.”

“Depends on the scenario where we find ourselves in. In this one. I believe I can,” he replied easily and got in position. “Ready, your Majesty?” She cringed and looked away at the honorific.

“Not that, please. Please, Anakin, just Padmé,” she requested softly.

“I was teasing,” he explained. “I won’t do it again.”

“I know you were teasing, but calling me that reminds me that my parents could well be dying right now.” She raised her blade and took a beginning stance of her own. “ _ En garde.” _ And then she basically charged him. 

Anakin, for the most part, was just defending her attacks, countering them here and there but he let her go at it, express her anger and let out her frustration for the past couple of days. He felt that it was the only way he could do anything useful to help her feel better or lighter. Any improvement of her spirit was a victory for him.

But it was easy to see that her mind wasn’t entirely on their sparring. The movements of her feet were shaky, her gaze kept drifting off, and her strikes started to lose their venom after the first few parries.

“Padmé, focus,” he asked as he defended one of her strikes. “Focus on our sparring, focus on me. Don’t think about anything else right now.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, pushing him against the nearest wall with a grunt, one of her legs brushing against his from the inside as their swords crossed.

“Clearly,” he replied dryly, cringing as his back hit the wall. He pushed against her and their legs, somehow, became tangled and they fell down in a mess of limbs as their swords clattered to the ground. “You are not fine and that is okay,” he said, his breathing labored from their sparring as he looked down into her eyes, supporting his weight on his hands. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I don’t want to. About anything,” she whispered, a hand reaching up to cup around his neck, her thumb brushing his cheek. “Ever. And the truth is that right now, I don’t want to fight with you. I want to kiss you.”

“Padmé…” he sighed into her touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he thought about her words.

“Tell me you don’t want the same thing and I’ll stop,” she told him calmly. “I promise.”

_ If only it were that simple.  _ “I do, of course I do,” he replied calmly, eyes opening. Padmé responded by closing her own eyes and leaning up to bring their mouths together. He sighed into her mouth, deepening the kiss that, if possible, was better than the last one they had shared. Except for this time, he was not going to run away, terrified, from her. He knew the probability of them both getting hurt over this, was off the charts, but he couldn’t help but ignore that voice inside his head and enjoy the moment.

Padmé’s other hand mirrored her first, pulling him even closer as her hips undulated up towards him and their legs began to tangle. She said nothing, only moaned wordlessly into his mouth as her fingers began to tangle in his hair. Nothing needed to be said, they both knew that they wanted this, and for now, nothing else mattered. Finally, she pulled back slightly, just enough to take a shuddering breath and gasp his name. “ _ Anakin. _ ”

He took the chance to shower her neck with small kisses and little nips at her skin as his hips rocked forward, meeting hers and a low growl escaped his lips as he became aware of her effect on his body. “ _ Padmé… _ you are simply exquisite.”

“I want more,” she confessed, leaning into his kisses with a sigh. “I want  _ you. _ ”

Anakin groaned as he pulled back with all his remaining strength. “That might not be a good idea. It’s too fast and you are emotional, it’s not right.”

“I’ve wanted it for  _ weeks,” _ she argued in a tone that bordered on whining. “I’ve thought about you,  _ dreamed  _ about you. I would want you regardless.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he said breathless, blue eyes darkening. “You are murdering the last of my chivalry.”

Padmé actually snorted. It was  _ very _ un-princesslike. “What next, do you think I’m expected to be a virgin until marriage?”

He paused, quirking one eyebrow as he nuzzled her cheek. “Well, are you?” 

“Not remotely,” she laughed, nipping at his ear. “Why, are you?”

“Not for a very long time,” he chuckled and kissed her passionately again. “We should go somewhere else, though,” he added as he pulled back, realizing the gym might not be the most appropriate place.

“Let me up then. We can go back to my room. Or any guest room you like,” she offered, tugging at the hem of his shirt eagerly.

“Impatient, are we?” He teased as he stood up and offered his hands to help her stand as well. “We might have more privacy in your room. Somewhere we are not interrupted.”

“Good thing I know the shortcuts.” She let him pull her to her feet and laced their fingers together, using the joined hands to tug him towards a panel in the wall he hasn’t seen before. Reaching out with her free hand, she reached out and pressed a bit of the carved detailing on the panel. A door swung inward with a creak, and she looked at him with an impish smile. “It goes straight to my hallway.”

“Good to know,” he chuckled as he let her lead the way inside the passage, their hands clasped together. “You will need to teach me these secret passages, one of these days.”

“Someday,” she agreed, navigating the stone corridor with a smile. “When’s your birthday?”

“I’ll be twenty-two in four months,” he replied. “Why?” 

“Well, maybe that’ll be your present,” Padmé answered. “Unless you want something else.” She glanced back at him and winked.

“I will think about what I want over the next four months and then I’ll let you know,” he promised, shaking his head with a smile.

“ _ Magnifique. _ ” She pushed against a brick in the wall and stepped back to let the door open for them. “And we’re here, no one the wiser. So, where were we?”

“You were about to take my shirt off, I think,” Anakin said, pretending to have a thoughtful look.

“So I was.” Padmé let go of his hand and hooked a finger on the edge of his shirt, pulling him out of the secret passage and straight through the doors of her suite. “And I was going to enjoy it immensely.”

“Maybe you should lock the doors first?” He pointed out, enjoying the lust that rolled off of her and seemed to fuel his own. “I would hate if one of your shadows interrupted us or, God forbid, one of your nieces came looking for you”

“Good point,” she sighed, reluctantly letting go of his hand so that she could flip the latch into place. “Any other mood killers you can think of?”

“No,” he shrugged and sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at her expectantly. “Your schedule is free for the rest of the day, right?” He cocked one eyebrow, leaning back on his elbows.

“Completely.” She crossed her arms at her waist and pulled off her own shirt, revealing the sports bra and toned abs beneath. “And so is yours now, by royal decree.”

“Then I guess I am all yours, Princess,” he said huskily, his eyes roaming over her body hungrily. “Whatever will you do with me?”

“Have you pay homage,” Padmé answered, slinking forward and straddling him as she leaned in for another kiss. His hands held her waist as he returned the kiss with passion, want, with absolute need. Padmé finally followed through on her attempt to remove his own shirt, pushing it up his chest with one hand as the fingers of the other traced his stomach. “Anakin,” she murmured, biting his lip softly before pulling back to get the shirt up and over his head. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“You flatter me,” he said cheekily, lips kissing her jawline before coming down to worship her neck with open-mouthed kisses, dropping feather-like ones over her collarbone, enjoying how smooth and soft her skin was and then he paid attention to the swell of her breasts, his tongue dipping between them as one of his hands toyed with the clasp of her bra.

“I really don’t,” she retorted, reaching back to help him unhook the bra altogether. It slid down her arms, letting her breasts spring free. “It’s the truth.”

Anakin easily inverted their positions, having her lay down on the soft mattress as he loomed over her and kissed her, rocking his hips against her, one of his hands teasing her breasts as the other one held her wrists above her head. “Then I should let you know, Princess, that I have never met anyone who could rival your beauty.”

“Now  _ you’re _ flattering me,” she laughed, wrapping a leg around his waist to pull their bodies even closer together.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down and took one of her breasts into his mouth, sucking and using his tongue to tease and flick her nipple. Padmé squirmed slightly, having not expected him to take that particular route. But she wasn’t exactly complaining either. And as he continued to lavish attention on her chest, she used the time to remove her shoes with her feet and then started to reach for the waist of her sports leggings.

Anakin raised his head and halted her moves, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Allow me,” he whispered as he kneeled between her legs and began pulling her leggings slowly down her legs, brushing his fingers against her skin, before he was throwing them over his shoulder.

“Mmm,” she sighed contentedly, then placed a hand on his chest. “You know what? Wait here, I’ll be right back. Feel free to take your pants off while you’re waiting.”

“Aw, wouldn’t you prefer to do that?” He questioned as he pulled away enough for her to move. “Birth control?” He guessed.

“Birth control,” she confirmed, getting off the bed and heading towards her bathroom. “And I think I’d rather come back to a full view of what I’m getting. A pleasant surprise to get me back in the mood.”

He stood and hooked his fingers over the elastic band of his workout pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. He stepped out of them and pushed them aside as he waited for her, in all his naked glory, already hard for her throughout all that training and foreplay. Padmé cleared her throat, prompting him to look at her.

She had changed into a baby blue slip that left very little to the imagination. He could see her hardened nipples protruding beneath the silky fabric, and instinct told him that she was no longer wearing the panties he’d seen only a few moments before. In addition to her lotus perfume, there was a headier scent in the air, a scent of desire that only seemed to grow stronger as her dark brown eyes lingered on the sight of his hardened cock. “My goodness, you’ve grown,” she quipped. It should have been absurdly corny, but the way her voice lowered and took on a husky edge made it unbelievably sexy.

“I never had a complaint,” he smiled devilishly at her, fingers itching to rip the slip off of her body and worship her body with his lips. Anakin closed the distance between them, lips brushing against her cheeks, hands running down her body to cup her backside in a firm grip. “You look illegal,” he breathed. “Out of this earth. Angelic.”

“Does that make you a devil, tempting me to sin?” she asked, pressing her lips against his neck, her teeth scraping along his skin.

“Maybe, I’ll leave that up to you to decide,” he replied, sighing at her lips on his neck.

“Oh, please, defile me for all it’s worth.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and jumped, locking her legs around his waist as she kissed him again.

He laid her on top of the bed as he began kissing her down her body, over the slip, until he reached the apex of her legs. Kissing the inside of her thigh, he ignored where she wanted him the most, taking pleasure in how she squirmed underneath his hands at his teasing. Holding her hips, he gave a chaste kiss to her womanhood and lower as his tongue teased her entrance.

“So that’s how there are no complai— _ ohhh _ ,” Padmé keened, wriggling as her first orgasm hit unceremoniously and without warning him. 

Anakin smirked and kissed the back of her knee. “Is it me, or did you cheat while you were in the bathroom?” He shook his head. “I should make you suffer a little because of that.”

“And what does suffering entail?” she asked boldly, breathlessly.

“Maybe I’ll stop right here,” he challenged. “After all, the Princess already had her release, so my job is done,” he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.

“Isn’t that punishing yourself too?” she asked coyly, crossing her legs with a smirk.

“I can cheat just as well as you did,” he pressed a kiss to her other knee. “Afraid I wouldn’t be up to the  _ royal  _ task?”

“Oh, I already know you will be. But,” she paused, wetting her lips as she looked up at him. “Wouldn’t it be so much crueler to work me up again and then leave me begging for release until I’ve sucked you off?”

“Never thought you would be the one to come up with the idea for  _ your  _ own punishment, but who am I to refuse such a brilliant, wicked idea?” He smiled mischievously and leaned forward to lick a broad stripe over her womanhood, the tip of his tongue teasing her clit mercilessly as his mouth suddenly covered her and he ate her out hungrily, like a starved man.

“Let’s just say,” she gasped while squirming beneath him, “sometimes I like to be bad.  _ Oh, God…” _

He pulled back just as he felt her getting near that delicious edge that would take her into a pleasure abyss and he hovered over her with a smirk, supporting his weight on his hands on either side of her head. “Perhaps you shouldn’t come at all for the rest of the evening,”

“If that’s what my dark knight wants,” she managed to whisper, “who am I to deny him?” But as she spoke, her hands were sneaking down, daring him to catch her.

One of his hands grabbed her wrist and he raised one eyebrow. “You touch yourself and I’ll leave.”

“Don’t.” It was a soft plea, not a command. “I won’t touch.”

“Good,” he pecked her lips, releasing her wrist as he moved back on his knees, his blue eyes had darkened into a midnight blue, nearly black. “It’s your turn. If I feel like you’ve earned it, maybe I’ll do something about your release.”

Without a word, she opened her mouth for him, wide and willing in the invitation for him to fuck it. It was the most erotic sight and he almost came undone. He grasped himself and teased her lips with his tip, wetting them with some of his pre-cum. Pushing himself inside of her mouth, he groaned, one hand fisting on her hair. Her lips latched around him readily, her tongue caressing the bottom of his shaft as she sucked him deeper in. He could feel his tip hitting the back of her throat. He moaned. “My  _ God,  _ Padmé, don’t stop,” he breathed. She responded by taking his balls in her hand, her fingers gently stroking them as she continued to take him in. Her other hand reached further back, running along the curve of his ass with a feather-light touch. “Fuck, I’m going to—” with a grunt, his fist tightened in her hair and he came inside her mouth. She let out a muffled squeal as his semen filled her throat, but did not pull back.  Anakin released her hair, caressing her locks as he pulled back. “You okay?” 

She took a few deep, shuddering breaths as she wiped his cum off her mouth. “I’m fine. Just out of practice. And the last time I did that, well,” she paused and smirked, “let’s just say there was more room in my mouth.”

Anakin chuckled as he tipped her chin up and kissed her lips. “You were incredible,” he complimented. He ran one finger over her already wrinkled slip. “Are you fond of this?” His hand slipped under the slip to caress her backside, the tips of his fingers brushing her core intentionally.

“Oral pleasure, you mean?” she asked cheekily, moving her hips so that his fingers were more deliberately inside her, trying to get some further stimulation out of him. “Or the idea of punishment?”

“Playing games,” he teased.

“I am,” she confirmed, pressing her forehead to his. “With so much responsibility on my shoulders, it’s nice to unwind. To give control over to someone else and just have some fun.”

“Hmm, I would have never have guessed,” he mused, pulling his fingers away before she was able to achieve any release. “It makes sense, though.”

“You’re not complaining, are you?”

“I must certainly am not. Games are fun. Harmless and they can provide a lot of pleasure when played right,” he kissed both of her cheeks before placing a chaste one on her lips, “and with the right person, of course.”

“Mhm.” She stroked his cheek fondly, the lust in her eyes softening slightly as she smiled at him. “Of course.”

“Turn around,” he whispered in her ear huskily. “Get on all fours.”

Both her eyebrows went straight up as she looked at him in surprise. “Should I be giving you a safe word while we’re at it?”

“Maybe another night,” he winked at her. “Now do as you’re told, little Princess.”

“As you wish,” she said, spinning around with a cheeky smile, presenting the taut, firm curve of her ass for his inspection. A few streaks of cum from her first orgasm were still running down her thighs and glistening on the folds of her rosy pink clit. 

“All fours, Princess,” he tutted as he massaged her ass with firm hands. “Hands on the mattress.” She huffed but obliged him. “Good girl,” he cooed and his fingers played with the hem of her slip. Without hesitation and any sort of warning, he ripped the silk in half, throwing it to the ground carelessly before his hands were running up and down the curves of her body, grasping her breasts, traveling down to her midsection and spreading her knees a little further. He leaned down to kiss her along her spine, stopping in the middle of her back. “What do you want, Princess?” He whispered against her skin.

“You. Inside me,  _ mon chevalier. _ ”

Anakin smiled against her skin. “Do you want me to be romantic or do you want me to take you, hard?”

“Start it slow. We’ll see where we go from there,” she answered, leaning into his touch. “I trust you not to hurt me.”

“Mhm,” he agreed before pulling back, straightening behind her, positioning himself at her entrance. “I would never do anything to hurt you.” He pushed inside of her, in one swift thrust. Sheathed inside of her, he groaned, holding her hips firmly. “ _ Fuck,  _ you feel too good, Padmé.” She was tight and warm, completely ready for him.

“Oh,  _ God, _ ” she gasped, pressing against him. “And I thought it was a challenge having you in my mouth.”

“Are you alright? Can I move?” He hissed as he held her against him, not moving in a way that would demand all the strength in his body.

“Better than alright,” she reassured him, looking over her shoulder with a grin. “It’s divine. Go on.”

He pulled out, until only the tip remained, before slamming back inside of her, starting an energetic thrusting pace. His fingers dug into the skin of her hips as he gave himself up to what she made him feel, to the primal instinct she woke inside of him. Padmé’s breathing began to pick up speed, falling in sync with his own as the feeling of climax drew nearer.

“Anakin, I—”

“I know,” he replied breathlessly as he began to pick up speed, his own climax threatening to overwhelm him, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. One of his hands released her hip to come between her legs and rub her clit mercilessly.

“ _ Please _ ,” she begged.

“Fuck,  _ come. Now! _ ” He groaned as he felt his climax overpowering him and he wanted to leap over that edge with her. At the same time, Padmé slumped into something like child’s pose in yoga, her body going limp in the rush of her release.

“ _ Divine, _ ” she exhaled, pressing her backside against his hips.

His thrusts slowed down as he rode the waves of his orgasm, until he stilled, his hold on her loosening as he pulled out of her and fell on her side, facing the ceiling as one of his arms covered his eyes. “That was…” he trailed off, his breath still labored as he recovered.

“I know.” she rolled over to stare up at him with a smile. “Want to go again?”

Anakin let out a laugh, as he lifted his arms and turned to look at her, surprised. “ _ Really? _ ”

“Well, maybe not this instant, but you are rather addicting. Didn’t anyone ever tell you?”

“My last girlfriend cried when I broke up with her, does that count?” He asked cheekily.

“You must’ve broken her heart.”

Anakin sighed, realizing his last comment might have been insensitive and his eyes went to the ceiling again. “It was for the best.” Amee did deserve someone who would pay her the attention she craved and dreamt the same dreams she did.

“Here’s hoping that whatever end we have is happier than that.”

“Here’s hoping,” he repeated, frowning slightly.

“Anakin.” She propped herself up on her elbows and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright.”

He looked at her curiously, one hand coming up to hide a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I thought you said  _ divine?  _ Alright is barely a compliment, you know.”

“I’m trying to reassure you emotionally right now, not give commentary on the quality of your lovemaking.”

“Consider me reassured?” He tilted his head. 

“ _ Cazzo come un dio, _ ” she pronounced seriously, then burst into giggles.

“I’ll try to remember that later, with Google translator,” he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It’s going to get challenging, keeping up with you in three languages and only being fluent in one.”

“Technically, I speak six languages fluently, and another seven to varying degrees of competence,” she corrected.

“That’s not intimidating.”

“Oh,  _ mon cher,”  _ Padmé sighed, leaning in to kiss his neck. “ _ Caro mio, meu querido,  _ don’t be scared of me.”

“I won’t be,” he turned his head slightly to kiss her forehead. Of course, his fear of her had nothing to do with how many languages she spoke.

“We don’t have to make love again tonight if you don’t want to. I’d like to, but I’ll never force you.”

“I know and you don’t have to worry so much about me,” Anakin pointed out.

“I can’t help it.” She moved lower, pressing her lips to his chest in a scattered sort of pattern. “You’ve uprooted your life for me, and I care about you. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Remembering the changes his life had suffered in a matter of days, made a brief and strong sense of discomfort settle in his stomach, his heart tightening in panic and he pulled her to straddle him, bringing his lips to meet hers, urgently seeking a distraction, a soothing balm to his soul. If the sudden movement or the change in his behavior surprised Padmé, she didn’t let it show, returning the kiss with an equal, maybe even greater fervor.


	10. I'm Better Off Bein' Alone

Anakin woke to the sound of paper landing next to his face with a loud  _ thwap. _ “We’re in it now,” Sabé’s voice came bluntly from somewhere above him.

“Too early,” Padmé mumbled, her voice making Anakin’s chest vibrate since her head was still resting on him.

“I thought you locked the door,” he grumbled, opening his eyes, wincing at the light that flooded the room.  _ Sabé  _ was not what he  _ needed  _ or  _ wanted  _ in the morning after.

“She did. I have a skeleton key,” Sabé said, picking up half of the paper she’d thrown down. “Did the two of you get drunk as well as falling into bed?”

“No,” Padmé muttered.

“Fuck, send her away, make her disappear,” Anakin hissed, shielding his eyes with an arm.

“I’ll go, but you need to see this first.” She turned the paper so that Anakin and Padmé could see that it was a copy of some kind of trashy looking tabloid. A tabloid with Anakin’s picture on it. “ _ You’re _ in it now, flyboy,” she said dryly, dropping the magazine on the laps before turning on her heel and sauntering out of the room.

“What the  _ hell  _ is she—” Anakin started grumpily, sitting up in bed and grabbing one of the magazines, losing his voice as he noticed the front page. It was a clear picture of him, strolling around Naboo. Clearly, a candid photo but apparently there was more  _ inside  _ and it apparently took some good seven pages. His blood ran cold as his name appeared in big, bold letters:  **MEET ANAKIN SKYWALKER — CHANCELLOR PALPATINE’S LONG-LOST GRANDSON** ! 

There was a picture of his father in the corner, more pages had the story of Lucien Palpatine’s life and death, and how his son was so much like him. He was dreading opening that particular article. If he knew tabloids, they already turned his life inside out.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, fear settling himself in the pit of his stomach making him feel nauseous.

“TriNebulon?” Padmé asked, taking it from him with a wrinkled nose. “They’re garbage, lowest of the low. Up there with the  _ Enquirer.” _

“From my experience,  _ everyone  _ reads trashy magazines. If this one has this story, all other magazines will follow and  _ oh my  _ **_God,_ ** I don’t even want to open any social media account and deal with the notifications,” Anakin groaned, letting his head fall on his hands as he massaged his temples.

“I can have the palace legal team take a look at this, if you want, and determine if there’s a course of action for you to sue them,” Padmé offered as she flipped through the pages. “But I’m more intrigued as to why this would be the news outlet chosen to leak your existence to the world.”

“If the Palace takes any action, people will wonder  _ why,  _ and to what end and that’s the last thing needed at the moment,” he commented and grabbed the magazine from her hands as he noticed some more personal pictures. “These pictures… they either broke into my mother’s house or... Nevermind, social media. They must have dug through all my nine years of Facebook and my mother’s as well,” he groaned, helplessly looking at private moments that were now present in magazines across the country and would soon take over international magazines. “My  _ mother.  _ I have to speak to her. Warn her about this.”

“By all means, call her,” Padmé agreed, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly. However, he wouldn’t relax, the muscles of his back tensed up, for good, by the looks of it. “And you’re a member of the government here, Anakin, the palace legal team is meant to be for all members of the staff to use, not just the Royal Family.”

He was already leaving the bed and gathering his clothes, putting them on in a rush. “Padmé, just—thank you, but—really, don’t  _ do  _ anything.”

“Anakin, calm down for a second and think. Who has the most to gain from outing you?”

“I know who it was and telling me to calm down is  _ not  _ going to make me  _ calm down, _ ” he searched his pockets and did not find his phone, cursing as he remembered that he must have left it at the gym. Without a word, Padmé reached over to her bedside table and passed him her own. “Thank you, but I’ll get mine. There are more people I will need to speak with and I don’t know the number by heart. I’ll just go to the gym and grab it. I’ll see you later,” he left the room without as much as a glance back.

Padmé sighed, thumbing her way through the pages with a frown. The fact that it was being published as a blind item in a gossip rag like TriNebulon indicated to her that the story had been slapped together hastily, and probably unethically, or it would have been submitted to a more reputable source. There were two possibilities there. Either Palpatine had not fully planned for Anakin, and was, therefore, rushing to bring him to his side, or this had been planned long in advance.

Her instincts said that it was the former. It seemed too sloppy to be a fully calculated move. If Palpatine had known Anakin better, he would have realized how alienating this course of action was. But that sloppiness was so distinctly out of character for him, maybe that meant that someone else had taken action...

Well, they could address this  _ after _ she put some clothes on. She did have Regency duties to attend to, after all.

* * *

Anakin  _ drove  _ himself to Parliament. He had spoken with his mother and Obi-Wan, ignored how his phone was blowing up by turning it off and throwing it somewhere inside his gym bag and managed to get a shower and change his clothes. He’d texted Qui-Gon he would take one of the cars and simply left, managing to only get lost once.

As her parked and left the car, he couldn’t help but feel watched by everyone around. Whispers running around made him wince. This was the kind of thing he hated. Climbing the stairs two at a time, the magazine firmly in his grasp, he ignored the assistants who asked if they could help and he glared at Palpatine’s secretary when she tried to stop him from entering the office unannounced.

“Have you  _ seen  _ this?” He stood in the door, flashing the magazine. “What  _ is  _ this?” Anakin hissed. 

“Anakin, my boy, my eyesight is not what it once was, you’ll have to come closer,” the Chancellor said, amiable despite Anakin’s clear outrage.

Huffing, Anakin closed the door in the poor secretary’s face and marched to his grandfather’s desk, throwing the magazine on top of the papers. “My picture—my name, is everywhere,” he scowled.

“My God.” Palpatine shook his head as he picked up the magazine and turned its pages. “The audacity of these vultures. Nowadays, they get their hands on such sensitive information, it’s a horrible menace.”

“My privacy is—was something I valued above everything and now it’s gone,” Anakin said, exasperated. “How did they get  _ their hands  _ on this sensitive information? How did they have the time? I was just here  _ yesterday. _ ”

“Smartphones make their jobs rather expedient, I’m afraid. Anakin, do you want me to deal with this? I would be all too happy to use my resources to find out who did this and hold them accountable.”

Anakin threw his arms in the air, sitting down with a defeated look. “What for?” He snapped, angrily. He wanted to scream that he  _ knew _ who did it and that he was standing right in front of him, but he had to remember the bigger picture. “People already know my face. My name. Where I come from and what I look like as a baby and teenager. Heavens, they know my grades and my university program,” he groaned as he spoke, hands slipping into his hair, tugging at the roots. “This was not what I wanted,” it was almost a whine.

“I understand, and I am truly sorry, my boy, but I fear there’s very little we can do at this point.”

“What now?” Anakin asked helplessly, slouching in his seat a look of utter defeat in his face.

“Well, there are a few courses of action we could take, but I don’t know what would best suit your preferences.”

“Going home, to  _ London, _ and hiding inside my childhood bedroom until I’m forgotten is an option?” He asked dryly.

“What about your contract with the RSF?”

“I’m still within the trial period,” Anakin muttered.

“I fear that running will only give further fuel to the rumors. You could be hounded for such things, even in England.”

Anakin groaned, already fearing that. “What will be the best course of action, then?” He asked, helpless.

“Well,” Palpatine folded his fingers thoughtfully. “I think that what your father would have done is acknowledge the truth. Take control of the narrative. Embrace who you are.”

He made a face. “How do we do that, exactly?”

“I could release a statement on behalf of our family, acknowledging you as my grandson. If we don’t try to hide this, the press will soon tire of the supposed scandal, but you will be able to learn more about the kind of life you should have had, if things had gone better. Lucien would not have wanted you to be ignorant of your heritage.”

“I guess not,” Anakin replied thoughtfully. “If that would help sweep this so-called scandal under the rug, I can agree with a statement being made.”

“There are many benefits to being a handsome young man in the upper echelons of our society, Anakin. You’ll become a very attractive option to many a young lady of society, for one thing.”

“I didn’t come to Naboo to get married or to court any  _ society  _ women, grandfather,” he retorted. “I came here for my heritage and my job.”

“Of course, of course, forgive me. I suppose my eyes must have been playing tricks on me yesterday.”

Anakin frowned. “How so?”

“I could have sworn I saw the Princess looking at you during her address.”

He shifted but tried to remain stoic as to not give anything away. “I was by Qui-Gon’s side and her aides as well, it was probably nothing. We don’t have a lot of contact, only the amount necessary for my new position.”

“Blast these eyes,” Palpatine muttered. “Never get old, my boy, it is very inconvenient.”

“Besides, I believe the Princess would benefit from someone more of her world than I am,” Anakin sighed.

“Nonsense, you’re a Palpatine. Our house is just as old and venerated as the House of Naberrie,” his grandfather scoffed. “Do not belittle your worth, Anakin.”

“I am not, grandfather, but my personality is not the kind that would easily adapt to public life. The Princess needs someone who is aware of royal protocols, who can accompany her in royal visits and actually speaks fluent politics. I am an Engineer, I speak fluent robotics and circuits slang and I’m only fluent in English and Portuguese, not seven languages,” he muttered the last part quietly.

“You’ve given this quite a bit of thought,” Palpatine mused innocently and Anakin blushed and scowled at himself internally. “But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, she is a charming young woman. I believe the palace gets at least a hundred letters a day from admirers declaring their love for her.”

“No argument with that, she certainly does not leave anyone indifferent and I am not surprised she has a legion of admirers,” Anakin cleared his throat and shifted, trying to seem nonchalant. “After all, she is the Crown Princess and will take the throne.”

“Yes, there are those who find such things attractive.”

Anakin nodded. “Grandfather, will you need anything from me for the statement? I would like to head to work.”

“Don’t worry about that, I will draft it and have it sent to you for perusal before releasing it to the public.”

“Thank you,” he stood up. “I am sorry for the way I barged into your office. This article caught me by surprise.”

“I don’t blame you. And besides, we are family. If we don’t support one another, who will?”

Anakin didn’t need to speak politics to get the meaning there.  _ I am supporting you now, and you  _ **_will_ ** _ support me in the future. _

* * *

 

“You have a way of broadcasting foul moods quite loudly,” Qui-Gon remarked as Anakin entered his office. “It’s something of an aura.”

“Shut up, you don’t know the  _ half  _ of my morning,” Anakin scowled. “I am woken up by that  _ thing  _ in heels shoving a trashy magazine in my face with my picture all over it, I go to Parliament only to discover that my grandfather leaked the photos so he could throw me into Naboo’s society and apparently, wants to dangle me in front of Padmé like a good catch,” he numbered as he sat down. “Oh, and on my way out, I had paparazzi shoving their cameras in my face, and I’m  _ sure  _ I have a ticket popping out somewhere in the next couple of days.” He finished his rant, breathless, leaning back into the chair. “So no sarcastic remarks, please.”

“The Chancellor admitted to leaking the story?”

“Of course not, Qui-Gon, but I know it was him and I understood his reasoning from the conversation we had,” Anakin snapped. “Can you please keep up?”

“I assure you this has my full attention. And you may have just uncovered his new endgame in your anger.”

“Oh? Please enlighten me!” He laced his fingers over his stomach, raising one eyebrow.

“Naboo’s laws of inheritance are something of a tricky business when it comes to the Crown, but the gist of the relevant policy here is that, if a monarch is married but dies without an heir of the blood, their consort is the heir presumptive,” Qui-Gon explained. “So, if you and the Princess were to be more formally involved with one another…”

“I would become the heir presumptive and if he were to murder her, I would inherit the throne,” Anakin said slowly. “Given that he is my grandfather and Chancellor, he would have someone of his bloodline on the throne while he plays the puppet master.”

“And presumably orchestrates a new dynasty without a drop of Naberrie blood,” Qui-Gon finished. “I hope you didn’t make any kind of agreement that he could use to force you into such an arrangement.”

“The only thing I have agreed with him is that he would release a statement, recognizing me as his grandson and a Palpatine,” Anakin replied.“That seems harmless enough and I am inclined to agree with him when he says that if we don’t hide this, the press will eventually tire of following me.”

“If that is what you want, Anakin, then I must advise you to tread carefully in your personal life. There are plenty of people who will have eyes on the Chancellor’s grandson, especially if he is involved with the Princess of Theed. There will undoubtedly be people who will want to get close to you, for your grandfather, the Princess, or both. Don’t give them anything they can use.”

“So the statement is not harmless?” Anakin asked confused. “I’m already being outed as his lost grandson, if he doesn’t admit it, the scandal will continue, and if he does, I’m suffering the consequences in my personal life? And my relationship with Padmé is not public, so how would people know we are involved?”

“He’s made the move to make you a pawn in the game. You can’t be taken off the board now, no one will let that happen, but he and his supporters will do whatever they can to make sure you stay in play on  _ their  _ side.”

“I knew that coming here, accepting this job, this  _ mission, _ would just make me a pawn in this nonsense,” Anakin replied bitterly.

“Then go home. Talk to your own tabloids, spin the story how you want, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“You’re talking to me like I’m some sort of PR expert,” he snapped. “You seem to forget that I’m just  _ twenty-one  _ and I finished  _ college  _ last summer. This is not my world, I have  _ no fucking clue  _ of what I need to do or what I have to say,” he lost it as he stood up. “You know what, I’m taking a day off and I’m going home,” he hissed as he turned his back to leave the office.

“I won’t stop you.”

“I’m starting to understand Obi-Wan’s reasoning a lot better,” he said before he slammed the door on his way out.

* * *

Padmé pushed back her hair and sighed as she finished reviewing yet another stack of papers. How could a piece of legislation about traffic lights take three hundred pages? No wonder her father was prematurely grey. 

“Sola has the right idea,” she mumbled aloud to no one in particular. 

“Princess, maybe you should take a break,” Typho suggested from his post at the door. “You’ve been working for hours.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. 

“You’re sleep-deprived,” Sabé quipped. “I wonder why.”

“I can banish you, Minara, don’t test me.”

“If you would like to know the whereabouts of your lover, Qui-Gon texted me a couple of hours ago,” Sabé went on, ignoring the threat.

“Stop it.”

“The sex was  _ that  _ bad?” Sabé smirked as Typho groaned quietly, cringing.

“Minara, you should watch your tongue,” the captain commented dryly.

“Typho, leave. I need to speak with my Shadow in private.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Typho bowed and turned to give a hard look at Sabé, before exiting the office.

Padmé stayed seated, gesturing for Sabé to take the chair on the opposite side of the desk with a stony face. Sabé did so with a soft sigh. “Tsabin. You are my oldest and dearest friend. But that doesn’t exempt you from being held to certain expectations.”

“I apologize for my comment, your Highness, I was trying to lighten the mood. You’ve been so gloomy today, I thought…” she shook her head. “Nevermind what I thought. My apologies. It will not happen again.”

“Stop harassing Skywalker. Period.”

“What?” Sabé jumped back. “He is not nice to me either, your Highness and he is not a member of the royal family so I don’t owe him any kind of respect.”

“He is a guest, here at great personal risk, and you have gone past disrespectful in your conduct towards him. You will treat him courteously because it is the polite thing to do. And if not for that reason, then because I am telling you to do so.”

“If that is your request, your Highness, consider it done,” Sabé replied, looking like she had eaten a lemon. “Mr. Skywalker will be given the proper treatment and the proper respect.”

“Thank you.” Padmé sighed at her friend’s immaturity. Then the full weight of the offending comment registered with her. “Why did Qui-Gon text you?”

“Apparently, the Chancellor will be releasing a statement where he fully recognizes Mr. Skywalker as his grandson and a Palpatine. From what I understood, Qui-Gon and Anakin had a disagreement and Anakin is home, at the moment,” Sabé related. “Qui-Gon also told me he might have uncovered the Chancellor’s new endgame, given that Anakin is a new pawn for him to play in his game for the crown. However, that needs to be discussed personally.”

“The crown matrimonial,” Padmé surmised immediately, letting out an even deeper sigh of resignation. “I should never have tried to keep Anakin in my life. I’ve broken every promise I’ve made him.”

“Without wanting to be disrespectful, Princess, what’s done is done. Anakin  _ is  _ in your life and you are in  _ his.  _ What happens from here, needs to be mutually discussed.”

“If you had not interfered and kidnapped him, the situation would be different.”

“You were heartbroken, I wanted to help you. Again, I will not apologize. I needed to make him see what he was doing to you and wanted him to realize that he could save your life if he were not so selfish,” Sabé pointed out hotly. “We both know that his life would have been worse if we hadn’t done anything. If the Chancellor had gone through with all his plans successfully, do you really believe he would not have the RSF drag Anakin to Naboo and forcefully accept the Crown he took from your cold, dead body?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I think we might have stopped him before such a thing came to pass.”

“You were not very hopeful on your chances of surviving the Chancellor before I brought Anakin to you.”

“Because I didn’t know then that my life would cost him his!”

“While he is alive and breathing, your life did not cost him his,” Sabé said calmly.

“Didn’t it? This leak to the press, it changes him, irrevocably.”

“It does,” Sabé agreed. “We can’t forget that Anakin is still twenty-one. He’s barely an adult,” she chuckled. “I am not saying this is going to come easily for him or be easy for either of you. He’s overwhelmed, Qui-Gon’s texts told me as much. With time, it’s something that he will grow accustomed with but you need to be patient with him. In a short span of months, everything he knew changed, but he allowed it to happen because he feels as strongly for you as you do for him. If he didn’t, Princess, he would have kept his head down and told us all to go to hell.”

Padmé pursed her lips, staring at the middle distance behind Sabé as she mulled this over. “Get me a car.”

“It will be ready in five, Princess,” Sabé beamed as she stood. “I’ll bring it out front.”

* * *

When he got home — Qui-Gon’s home, not his, per se — Anakin called his mother again, he knew that speaking with her would calm him down, she was the only one with that gift. Shmi sounded surprisingly calm about the ordeal and she advised Anakin to be smart and not let his fear and panic rule him and his decision making. The statement was the right path, it was official and it would put a stop to the press, for the time being. But, it did not mean it was completely harmless. By officially being recognized as a Palpatine and the Chancellor’s direct heir, Anakin would be part of a political world he never knew but needed to adapt himself to if he didn’t want to be played for a fool. Inclusively, she told him that if anyone could help him navigate the political world, it would be Padmé. 

Anakin had to trust the right people, and that did not include Palpatine or his brother, Dooku, who Anakin still hadn’t met but from his mother’s tone of voice, he should be thankful and should hope it remained like that.

After he hung up, he didn’t feel like calling Obi-Wan and postponed that particular call for the next day. He entertained himself with unpacking his suitcase and the boxes that had arrived meanwhile. He had to unpack, otherwise, he might suddenly give in to his panic and grab everything to go back home and hide under a rock, until he was forgotten.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unpacking, but he was on a box of pictures when he heard a set of bell chimes ringing through the house. He unwrapped the frames slowly, considering whether opening the door was the right thing to do. He didn’t know who it was and frankly, he didn’t care. He set the frame of a picture with Ahsoka down, which made him think that he should try to talk to the young girl soon. He grabbed another one and began to unwrap it. The doorbell rang again. With a sigh, he dropped the frame and went downstairs over to the door. He was ready to tell whoever it was to get lost, because it was really not a good day to bother him, when he came face to face with Padmé, wearing a hooded sweater and big sunglasses that did very little to hide that it was her.

“Would it be alright if I came in?” she asked. Anakin simply nodded and stepped back to let her in, closing the door behind her. Padmé lowered her hood and removed the sunglasses. “I bet you’re starting to wish you’d just let them shoot me,” she said. It was clear from her tone that she was joking, but it was a  _ bad _ joke. “Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”

From the look on his face, the joke clearly had gone over his head and he glared at her. “I—I don’t have an answer for the worst joke at the worst time.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I thought it would break the ice, but humor is not exactly my strong suit. I just wanted to talk. I was worried about you.”

“For future reference, joking about preferring to let you die is not a good ice breaker,” he pointed out, exasperated. “I haven’t had a panic attack. Yet. Or flown back to London. So I’ll say I’m good. You worry excessively.”

“I care about you,” she admitted. “And I don’t want you getting hurt. Though it seems it’s too late for that.”

“It’s not that I am hurt, Padmé, it’s not about that. I am lost, that’s all, this is all new to me and it’s all happening very fast and it’s escaping my control,” Anakin explained as he sat in one of the couches. “I can take care of myself which, please, do not misunderstand that for lack of gratitude because it’s not. I am thankful that you worry.”

“I suppose I feel responsible for how fast everything’s happening. But it’s happened, and we can’t undo it now. We can only decide what happens moving forward.” She sat down opposite him, twisting her fingers around each other as she avoided his gaze.

“Which, if you ask the Chancellor, will be our wedding. And after that, your death, so I am the heir presumptive and I can take over your place, so he can manipulate me into doing his bidding,” Anakin pointed out dryly. “If you think about it, really, this will grant you safety until we’re somehow married.”

“I don’t want to talk about the Chancellor right now. I don’t want him getting involved in our relationship, I don’t want anyone meddling in what there is between us.”

“What  _ is  _ there between us, Padmé?” Anakin asked, with a frown. “A lot has been happening and  _ a lot  _ happened last night, but what is this? What is our relationship?” 

“I care about you,” she whispered. “And I want to keep seeing you. I can picture us having a relationship, I  _ want _ us to have a relationship. But I know that if we were going to do that, you’d lose a lot more of your privacy. And I can’t do that to you.”

He nodded, quietly thinking about her words. “It seems we are at an impasse,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I care about you too. I can imagine us having a relationship. But I don’t know if I am ready, or if I am cut to the public lifestyle that would be demanded and I don’t want to give you false hope about anything.”

“Is there any way you think we could keep doing what we’ve been doing in private?”

“There is but we have to consider what will happen if this,” he pointed between them, “doesn’t work out. Like we were saying yesterday. We hope that we have a happier ending than our previous relationships, but we have to be realistic about where we stand right now.”

“Sexfriends?” she asked dryly.

“Padmé, come on,” he tilted his head. “That was not what I meant.”

“Sorry, sorry, I know,” she sighed. “I don’t know what we are. Everything I think of what we could be is marred by the fact that people can’t know we’re together.”

“I want you to understand, Padmé, my aversion to being in the spotlight is not selfishness. I just… I had a vision of what my life would be, you know? I worked so hard through secondary school and college and I had this five year plan of my career goals. I would start as a teacher’s assistant as I applied to internships and positions with some of the most powerful names in the robotics and artificial intelligence world. I had these programs I wanted to develop. I wanted to be able to buy my own flat so I could leave my mother’s house. I wanted to travel, to be part of conferences, to write about my ideas, about my theories,” Anakin explained passionately, before coming to a pause. “Doing this,” he licked his lips, “choosing this life, means giving up on all that and it’s a lot for me to process and it’s years and years of dreams for me to carelessly put aside. It doesn’t mean I don’t care for you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. It also doesn’t mean I do not want a relationship with you.”

“There are still ways you could do a lot of those things,” she pointed out. “But I understand what you’re going through. I won’t push it. And you don’t have to worry about  somehow being roped into my consort, I can tell it’s not what you want.”

She sounded hurt and disappointed and he hated himself for that. “I don’t know what I want right now,” he said. “It’s not easy figuring this out and I have to do it on my own.”

“Of course,” she conceded, running her hands through her hair. “We’re always going to be complicated, aren’t we?”

“If things had been different… if I had been raised by my father, knowing who I was, who our family was, perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult,” Anakin sighed. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Padmé, but I don’t want to lie to you. I don’t want to tell you this can work, when I am fairly certain I am going to end up hurting you so much more later.”

“So, what you’re saying is that what happened last night can’t happen again.”

“It is,” Anakin admitted painfully. “At least until we know where we stand and who we are to each other,” he looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” She stood. “I came here to talk, we’ve talked, we understand each other. I should get home now.”

Anakin nodded, feeling an extreme sadness wash over him. “I am still sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” The way her eyes were shining told him she was lying before her sunglasses covered them up once more. “Good night, Anakin.”

“Good night, Padmé,” he whispered.


	11. Move to Me

“Ugh, I feel like I’m about to melt,” Padmé groaned as she stumbled into her suite, pulling off her heels with a huff. “This is getting insane. How can it have been two weeks and no progress with  _ either  _ of my parents?”

“They are stable and recovering. We should be thankful for that. The doctors know what they are doing, Padmé,” Eirtaé reminded her as she walked inside the wardrobe, turning the lights on.

“I don’t consider it recovering if they’re still stuck in medically induced comas!” Padmé snapped at her secretary. “Their waking up would be an improvement.”

“You’re focusing on the negative,” Eirtaé’s voice floated from the adjacent room. “They are still alive. They are being treated and you need to unwind,” she said as she appeared at the doorway, looking at the royal from top to bottom. “Hmm. We have plans tonight,” she announced, holding up two garments. “What dress color would you prefer?”

Padmé gawked, both at the dresses in her friend’s hands and Eirtaé’s face, both of which were far too formal for an evening at home. “I wasn’t aware we had a state dinner tonight.”

“It’s not a state dinner, but it’s still dinner and you still need to be presentable,” Eirtaé pointed out. “Come on, which one will it be? We don’t have all night!” She held the dresses up again. Padmé sighed and pointed to the one that didn’t look absurdly risqué, a pale pink dress with a triangular pattern of black and gold beading on the bodice. “Good choice. The other one would make your legs look spectacular, but we’ll find another purpose for that,” she laid the chosen dress on the bed. “Now hurry and take a shower.”

“If you’re setting me up on a blind date with some piece of Eurotrash to get my mind off how often the Chancellor’s been entertaining socialites at his home these last two weeks, I’m not interested,” Padmé said, folding her arms and staying put.

“Do you trust me?” Eirtaé asked, lacing her fingers in front of her. 

“Normally, yes, but after Sabé started going rogue, I have doubts about the lot of you conspiring behind my back.”

Eirtaé laughed. “Sabé is...well, Sabé. She has been on her best behavior, though. She didn’t even go through with her threats on Mr. Skywalker’s male parts after you returned home two weeks ago, heartbroken, so I’ll call that improvement,” she took a seat next to Padmé. “Padmé, please trust me. You will enjoy yourself tonight. You have deserved it. So what, the Chancellor is parading every single socialite in front of his grandson? They have nothing on you and you deserve a break,” Eirtaé patted the other woman’s hand and stood up again. “Shower?” She prompted.

“I had one this morning!”

“Yes, but now you reek of Parliament,” Eirtaé made a face. “Go freshen up that lotus flower scent. You’ll feel better.”

“This is ridiculous,” Padmé grumbled as she slunk into her bathroom and started the shower. 

Eirtaé snickered. “You’ll be thanking me in a few hours,” she mused as she sorted through the collection of shoes and selected a pair of golden sandals to go with the beading of the dress.

* * *

 

The gardens of the palace, closed since the attempt on her life, were filled with thousands of white fairy lights, casting an unreal and beautiful glow on all the flowers and plants surrounding the gravy pathways. The fountains, filled with lotus flowers, had round, little candles in purple, pink and red. Deep into the gardens, where a sitting area used to be, was now a candlelit dinner table set for two. The ground was covered in rose petals and pacing the floor in front of the table, Anakin. He looked handsome and perhaps, more mature, dressed in an all-black, formal ensemble, which made his blue eyes stand out. He looked nervous but excited at the same time.

Padmé hovered at the threshold of the door, trying to regain her breath as she took in the entire tableau standing before her. 

“Don’t just stand there, go to him!” Eirtaé chided, prodding her forward. Padmé’s heels made her stumble, nearly sending her toppling into the table. Nearly. 

Anakin moved forward in a heartbeat, catching her before she could make contact. His eyes rose to Eirtaé’s. “Thank you, I got it from here,” he beamed at her.

“I’ll let the waiter know you will be ready to eat soon,” Eirtaé winked and turned on her heel, leaving the couple alone.

“You’re alright?” Anakin asked as he helped Padmé straighten up. “You look stunning, Padmé,” he breathed.

“I’m fine, thanks to your habit of being there to save me,” she admitted, flushing scarlet, but doing nothing to move away from him. “Anakin, you did all this? But I thought…”

“I did. I mean, not all of my own. I did count on Eirtaé and Rabé’s help to pull this off. I don’t think Sabé is very fond of me at the moment,” he explained. “I can’t blame her though. She has every reason to want my head on a spike.”

“I don’t understand, you said we couldn’t happen. We agreed it wouldn’t work.”

“No. I said that. For my benefit, you agreed,” Anakin pointed out. “This,” he waved at the romantic scene before them. “Is an apology. I was so negative the last time we spoke. It had been an extremely stressful day, filled with unexpected events that had my head reeling. I was focusing so much on what could go wrong and I was supporting my decisions on the worst-case scenario that I forgot to think about what could go right and how I could fit  _ that  _ part into my life.”

Padmé grinned, leaning into him. “For a man who doesn’t like politics, you’re very good at speeches, Mr. Skywalker. So, this apology,” she mimicked his hand waving, “it is also a date?”

“Our very first one, Princess, if you’ll have me,” he couldn’t help but grin back at her, arms around her waist.

“It would be my pleasure,” she laughed, standing on tiptoe to kiss his nose.

Anakin chuckled and leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring everything into it. One of his arms tightened around her waist as a hand came up to hold her head to him, fingers tangling in her hair. Padmé’s tongue slipped easily into his mouth and one of her feet rubbed lovingly against his ankle as they continued to exist in that one breathless, perfect moment. 

As they broke apart, he nuzzled her cheek, sweetly dropping a kiss on the corner of her lips. “These past two weeks have been miserable,” he confessed.

“You don’t care for the young ladies of Naboo’s high society?” she teased.

“It was a horror show,” his eyes widened comically. “I felt like I was being auctioned to the highest bidder. I was groped God knows how many times and I have all these women texting me because apparently, my grandfather offered my number as a party favor, I don’t know,” he groaned, hiding his face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

“My poor knight,” she sighed, stroking her hair. “Well, at least it’s keeping our dear Chancellor distracted. Yes?”

“He has already asked me if I have any preference for my firstborn son’s name,” Anakin sulked. “Other than that, he’s fairly clueless as to our plan, so, so far, so good,” he kissed her cheek, pulling away. “However, we should try to speak about other things,” he came to the back of one of the chairs and pulled it back. “Your Highness, if you may,” he teased.

“Always,” she said, sinking down into the chair with a grand sweep of her skirts.

Anakin took his seat in front of her. “How has the Regency been treating you?” He asked and, on cue, a waiter appeared, carrying two entrées. 

“Do you want the official answer or the truth?”

“Always the truth,” he said.

“I’m exhausted,” she admitted, picking slightly at her plate. “It’s the waiting that’s driving me mad, honestly. The idea that my parents are hanging in the balance between life and death, my mind is never truly present when I’m working.”

“Any day now, they will wake up,” he reached forward and covered her hand with his. “They will be proud of the work you’ve been doing in their name and Naboo has returned to an odd kind of normalcy, according to Qui-Gon. With Palpatine so focused on having me marry into high society, he hasn’t found time to cause any trouble, which leads me to believe you and your parents are safe for now.”

“For now,” she agreed with a sigh. “But that doesn’t make being the Regent any less challenging.”

“How can I help?” Anakin asked, lacing their fingers. “Really, tell me what can I do to make it easier for you.”

“Really, Anakin, it’s just the sheer volume of things to handle and my own stress. Can’t we talk about something else for tonight? Literally anything else?”

“Alright, we can definitely do that,” he nodded. “My mum is coming over to Naboo for a while since she took a sabbatical from the hospital.”

“Well, I will look forward to the possibility of meeting her, assuming we can manage it.” Padmé raised her glass in a toast.

“I can tell you that she is looking forward to meeting you as well,” Anakin chuckled, mimicking her gesture. “She was the one that made me come to my senses so having her here with me, will make it so much easier for me. Does that make me seem like a momma’s boy?” He teased.

“Considering my position, I’m not exactly one to talk, am I?” she laughed, taking a sip of the wine.

“I guess not,” he laughed with her, sipping on his wine as well. “I managed to get pardoned by Ahsoka. Did I tell you she refused to speak with me when she found out I was moving here?”

“Felt you abandoned her, did she?” Padmé asked with a quirked eyebrow. “How did you manage a pardon? Should I be concerned?”

“I promised her a tour of Naboo, full expenses paid and I might have mentioned that she could meet and have brunch with a real Princess,” he grinned. “Might need your help on that part. I didn’t know this before but apparently, for a history essay, she had to write about Naboo and its story. She has been a big fan of yours ever since. Declares you as one of her biggest inspirations.”

“That’s not intimidating at all,” Padmé said, clearly taken aback by the revelation. “That’s worse than just having to deal with the usual kind of starstruck people.”

“Ahsoka is very… snippy,” he chuckled. “Very chatty. Very down to Earth. I think you will get along well.”

“I hope so, I would hate to disappoint your best friend.”

“She is more of a little sister. My best friend is an idiot who keeps messaging me photos of Naboo girls that I should totally  _ bang  _ given my new position,” he rolled his eyes thinking about Kitster.

“ _ Charmante _ .”

“He tries his best. If it makes you feel better, he said he wouldn’t send me a picture of the  _ Princess  _ because he is sure I couldn’t handle it,” he smirked as he took a sip of his wine. “Apparently, you are far too good for me, your Highness.”

“Oh, don’t let him meet your grandfather, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I’ll try and stop that meeting. However, my grandfather has been speaking of throwing a huge bash for my birthday. He has offered the family house for the party and somewhere where my friends are able to stay. He wants to invite as many people as I want from London and make a weekend out of it, Padmé, I barely know what to do with myself when a few people sing me happy birthday, let alone have a party go on for days,” he groaned with a chuckle. 

“Well, given that  _ my _ birthday will be happening before yours, you could always attend that little fête, and then tell him it’s not your cup of tea,” she pointed out, eyes sparkling merrily.

“When  _ is  _ your birthday?”

“Oh, three weeks from Saturday,” she answered, fingering one of her curls as she took a few more bites of dinner.

“That is not a lot of time to find you a suitable gift, but I’ll accept the challenge.”

“Anakin, you’re giving me  _ you,  _ right now,” she pointed out. “You’re giving us a chance. That’s the best gift I could hope for. I’ve missed you so much these last weeks.”

“I want to give you something, so let me,” he beamed at her. “This is as beneficial for me as it is for you. I missed you too, so much. I regretted not going after you that night, tell you I was sorry and an idiot and that I did want to be with you.”

“You can say it all now if you want,” Padmé teased. “But I’ve already forgiven you either way.”

“Well,” he grabbed his glass and leaned back in his chair. “Instead of telling you, I was going to show you later, but since I am already forgiven, I guess I don’t have to try as hard,” he said cheekily, sipping on his wine.

“Oh, you will try, or I’ll have to be the one punishing  _ you _ this time,” she warned with a smirk, reaching out to rub her fingertip along the inside of his wrist. “I’m good at it when I want to be. And for you, I definitely will want to be.”

His eyes darkened considerably. “Then I’ll definitely not try at all,” he raised one eyebrow. “I am far too curious for the likes of your punishment,” he licked his lips in anticipation. “However we still have dessert.”

“Why would I want dessert when I know how delicious  _ you _ are?” Padmé’s brown eyes began to darken a shade or two.

“Then what are you waiting for?” He challenged, leaning forward across the table. “We can leave this dinner whenever you want, go up to your bedroom and lock the door and I arranged for Eirtaé to clear your morning, so we can have a proper morning after.”

“You’re spoiling me!” she squealed in delight. “And yet you think you can top this for my birthday?”

“I will be a poor excuse of a boyfriend if I can’t top myself event after event,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Hmph.” She twisted the edge of his tie around her fingers and pulled, watching it come undone with a smirk. “Just so long as I get to top you myself every now and then.”

“Oh, I hope you do, love,” the words fell from his lips in a husky tone and he barely noticed the pet name. “We’re skipping dessert, then?”

“We could always compromise by having it sent up to my rooms so we can eat it off each other,” she suggested, wrapping the tie around her hand with a saucy little wink. “What do you think,  _ mon cher? _ ”

“I think we have a plan,” he smirked at her, standing up and letting her lead the way. “A very good, delicious plan.”

* * *

“I think there’s still cake in my navel,” Padmé laughed as she lifted up the sheet and examined their sweaty, tangled bodies. “You were thorough.”

”Oh, there is?” He quirked an eyebrow, lowering his head to kiss down her stomach until his tongue as swirling around her navel, capturing the leftovers of the filling from their dessert. “Anywhere else I might have missed?” Anakin asked as he raised his head to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Well, the thought crossed my mind,” she drawled, turning to press her own lips to his neck, “that if you  _ are _ going to be attending a ball, you’re probably going to need to know how to dance. Unless they taught you that in England?”

“Not for lack of my mother’s insistence,” Anakin moaned and kissed her shoulder. “However, I am not the most skilled dancer, no.”

“Well, then maybe I’m just going to have to teach you,  _ mon cher.  _ Much as I adore you, I would rather not spend my birthday getting my toes stepped on.”

“I am all for dance lessons with you, love, we can talk about them later,” he nodded distractedly, capturing her lips in another kiss, rolling on top of her, their legs tangled together.

“Because you’re interested in another round of the horizontal tango?”

He snorted. “Do you have to call it that?” His lips descended from hers, towards her neck where he sucked at her pulse point.

“As far as my bad jokes go, I’ve done much, much worse,” she pointed out, before dissolving into a moan at his touch.

“That you did,” he agreed with a chuckle as he nipped at the light hickey he left her with. “Stand up comedy is definitely not in your future,” Anakin raised his head to peck her lips. “Unless you were doing the salsa, which I believe would be a great success.”

Padmé snickered and grabbed one of the pillows, swatting him with it. “You’re incorrigible. Whatever am I going to do with you?"

“I can imagine a couple of things, your Highness,” Anakin laughed, grabbing the pillow and throwing it aside, hitting the lamp and sending it crashing to the ground. “Oh, oops,” he smirked.

“You’ll pay for that, Skywalker, the President of France gave me that lamp!”

“You can always tell him about the funny story of how you and your boyfriend broke it during your third round of sex,” he shrugged with a smirk. “Will he be at your party? I could be the one to tell him,” he teased.

“Oh, God,  _ no.  _ Do that, and I’ll not only break up with you, I’ll have you banished!”

He paused but had a grin on his face. “You would miss me too much.”

“I would,” she admitted. “So come here and kiss me.”

“What about my dance lessons?” Anakin teased, tilting his head to the side.

“As  you said,” she beckoned him closer, “later.”

Leaning down, he kissed her again, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, devouring her as if he hadn’t spent the last few hours kissing her, memorizing what she tasted like. “Later,” he agreed as he broke the kiss.

* * *

“ _ There _ you are.” Sola Naberrie proved to be slightly taller than Padmé, with a narrower, longer face, darker hair, and blue eyes, though Anakin couldn’t get a good look at them as she moved in to hug Padmé. “I’ve missed my little sister.”

“You were here two weeks ago,” Padmé pointed out as she returned the embrace.

“Only briefly before we had to get going again. I felt awful about that.”

“I understand why you did it,” Padmé promised reassuringly, taking a step back. “Sola, this is Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, this is my older sister, Sola.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Naberrie.”

Sola squinted at him slightly as she shook his hand. “You look like your father,” she remarked bluntly. “I’m sorry, my husband and my daughters will be here at any moment. There was a mishap with dresses.”

“Ryoo’s or Pooja’s?”

“You knew my father?” He asked at the same time.

“Pooja’s and yes, I did know him briefly,” Sola answered. “I was eight, and all the little girls had crushes on handsome Luc Palpatine, who looked so much like a Prince Charming. He was very kind in indulging us.”

Anakin couldn’t help but laugh. So far, everything he heard about his father, had been wonderful and, from the looks of it, he was nothing like Sheev, which in turn was a relief. “That is incredibly sweet.”

“You really do take after him, it would seem,” Padmé mused with a smile.

“Being Prince Charming?” He beamed down at her.

“If you want to put it that way,” she agreed as the door opened again.

“Monsieur Anakin!” Ryoo squealed as she rushed in. “See, Pooja, I told you he was real!”

“Volume, kiddo,” a blond man scolded as he walked in, holding a younger girl in his arms.

“Hello again, little Ryoo,” Anakin smiled, crouching down to her height. “It’s very good to see you again.”

“Did you get better at your French?” she asked, rocking back and forth as she looked at him.

“ _ Un peu, votre tante m’a aidé, _ ” he replied but his accent was still leaking into his words. “How is your Japanese going?”

“I’m getting better,” she said proudly.

“Nice to meet you, Anakin, I’m Darred Janren. I’d shake hands, but I got this little munchkin stuck in my arms right now.” The American accent was unmissable now. 

“It’s a pleasure, Darred,” Anakin stood to his full height. “This must be Pooja,” he reached out a hand to tickle her side. “Padmé has told me a lot about her too. She is adorable. Both of them are.”

“ _ Ne me touche pas! _ ” Pooja shrieked, swatting his hand away and burying her face in his neck. Anakin look stricken.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“She’s kind of terrified by strangers right now, we had an incident where she was lost for an hour in Brazil,” Darred explained as his youngest mumbled into his neck in French. “We’re working on it.”

“Then it’s normal for her to be scared. It can be a traumatizing experience,” Anakin nodded in understanding. “I’ll introduce myself later, when I’m no longer an unfamiliar face.”

“I still like you,” Ryoo chirped helpfully.

Anakin grinned at tucked one strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Thank you, little one.”

“Darred, why don’t you and the girls keep Anakin company for a little bit? I’d like to talk with my sister in private.”

“Not a problem, beautiful. Anakin, how good are you with tag?”

“I’m sure Ryoo is better than me,” he said dramatically and the little girl giggled. “But I am willing to try my best.”

“Tag!” she shouted, tapping him on the leg before taking off running.

“You and your Aunt have a tendency to cheat, don’t you?” He threw a meaningful look at Padmé, before jogging after the little girl.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sola asked, looking at Padmé pointedly as Darred followed Anakin and his eldest out of the room. “Padmé, do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do!”

“I’ve been where you are and it’s a difficult situation, but with mother and father in their current condition, should this relationship really be your priority?” Sola sighed as she sat down and waved at her side so Padmé would do the same.

“You have  _ not _ been where I am, not like this,” Padmé said sharply, ignoring the suggestion. “Anakin is my relief in an ocean of stress, I need him.”

“Don’t get defensive, little sister, I am just concerned,” Sola said calmly. “He seems like a wonderful man, and I don’t doubt that you care for him, but taking in consideration who his grandfather is, and what he is suspected of doing, should you really be pursuing a relationship with the one person who has everything to win, should our parents perish? Should you perish as well?”

“You’re in a fine place to talk about responsibilities, considering that you turned your back on royal duties years ago. We’re keeping it secret, we’re taking every precaution,  _ I’m handling it. _ ”

“We both know I would have made a terrible Queen. You were always the one that shone, Padmé, and you were always the one Papa hoped would one day take the crown. This being said, please never think I took the decision to abdicate lightly. I knew what the consequences would be, and I accepted them,” Sola sighed. “It worries me that this relationship will eventually hurt you and leave you heartbroken. I have been told of the struggles you two have regarding Mr. Skywalker’s aversion to public life. That is a really big thing in our line of work, Padmé.”

“Sola, please. Please, just be my sister right now,” Padmé said, finally sitting next to her. “Anakin won’t hurt me, and we will catch Palpatine before anything else bad can happen. What happens after that,” she paused. “We’ll have time.”

Sola seemed to think about the subject, before sighing, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned against the cushions. “Alright. Sister talk,” she nodded in agreement, a gentle smile appearing on her lips. “You are going British, little sister? The accent is quite something.”

“Says the woman who married an American. Besides, it’s not like anything matters at this point, after William and Harry’s weddings, after all.”

“Why do you say that?” Sola smirked as she requested one of the aides to bring them tea and some pastries.

“Well, even if Anakin weren’t Palpatine’s grandson, there’s not exactly the same stigma in the public eye to marrying commoners as there might have been once upon a time.”

“That’s true. You know Papa will want to meet him and evaluate him once he recovers fully,” Sola pointed out with a smirk. “Think he would run back to his own royal family after that?”

“Anakin’s braver than that. As evidenced by how I met him.”

“You are completely in love with him,” Sola laughed, shaking her head. “Love looks good on you, little sister.”

“It’s never really happened before, has it?” Padmé admitted with a blush. “He calls me love sometimes, when we’re alone, but I’d rather not push him on the subject, he’s already given up so much to be with me.”

“No, it hasn’t. You are different when you’re with him. Different from the previous boyfriends. You radiate happiness, and I am happy that this is finally happening to you, I really am,” Sola assured her. “If he calls you that sometimes, why don’t you tell him how you really feel? He might feel the exact same, Padmé, and you don’t have to dance around the subject,” she pointed out. “I am sorry if I seem hard on you two, it’s just that I worry.”

“Now is not the time.”

“If not now, when?”

“I don’t know, I’ll feel it. When was the moment you knew with Darred?”

Sola’s lips twitched. “When I realized he didn’t care about who I was, where I came from. That he accepted me and my flaws. My past and my decisions. When he defended me before his family. Sometimes, Padmé, there is not just a moment. There are thousands of little ones that lead to a sudden realization in a simple, basic moment that can very well be when you nearly burned his kitchen down trying to cook and instead of being angry, he just laughs at your disheveled and panic-stricken appearance.”

“Americans,” Padmé scoffed. “You’re lucky you made beautiful children.”

“Hmm, yours and Anakin’s will be just as beautiful,” Sola mused. “Have you pictured them? A little boy with big blue eyes, head full of curls? Maybe a girl, your little twin, but her father’s charming temper? These are things you think about when you love someone,” she poked her sister’s side. “Tell me.”

“I have not, I’ve been preoccupied with running our nation and getting to know my boyfriend!”

“Mhm,” Sola quirked an eyebrow. “Indulge me, sister.”

“This feels like a conversation that should be had when we’re drunk.”

“That means I am not allowed to ask if he fully  _ satisfies  _ you in the bedroom?”

“ _ Stop _ !”

“I didn’t even ask about the size!” Sola exclaimed, laughing at her sister’s embarrassment.

“Get out. Get out before I banish you.”

Sola’s laugh echoed through the halls.

 

* * *

“I win!” Ryoo shouted, climbing up on the statue of Set and Veré. “I’m the best!”

“Again,” Anakin announced, supporting his hands on his knees. “You’re fast. You have  _ a lot  _ of energy. You have definitely and forever beat me.”

“ _ Je suis fatiguée,” _ Pooja whispered as she sat on the ground, playing with a stack of pebbles.

“Me too, little one, me too,” Anakin winced. “Can you give me a break, Ryoo?”

“Okay,” Ryoo sighed dramatically. “Old people stink.”

Anakin shook his head with a smile and took a seat next to Darred. “I can’t believe I’m being called old at twenty-one.”

“Naberrie women are whirlwinds,” Darred agreed as he gave Pooja another rock. “But I’m sure you know that.”

“They certainly turn your world upside down,” he agreed. “Mine has never been the same since I’ve met her.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Anakin admitted softly. “There have been crazy moments when I told myself that I did, but they were never my true feelings. I have fought a long time against what I felt. Afraid of changing my life, losing what I fought so hard to have,” he explained. “Two weeks ago, when I broke things off, they barely had started at all. It was the most miserable time of my life.”

“Have you told her that you love her?”

Anakin paused, looking at the other man. “No, I haven’t.”

“Oh, shit, did I overstep? I just figured from the way you talk about her, and how you looked at each other—”

“No, no, you didn’t. I do love her. I just haven’t told her,” Anakin reassured him.

“What’s holding you back?”

“If I tell her I love her, I am never going to be able to leave her,” he said quietly, with a frown. “When that happens, I am going to have to face my fears and reservations about being in the public eye, about not doing what I’ve always planned. I’m scared of that. Scared of one day waking up and resenting her, you know? It sounds awful, I feel awful about just thinking that,” he babbled. “And  _ God forbid  _ she does the same thing as Sola. I would  _ never  _ feel good about myself or our relationship again.”

“Oh, Sola didn’t abdicate because of me. It’s a common misconception, but she chose that before we ever met. And even though I would have been awful at it, I would have agreed to be a Prince if things had been different and she hadn’t abdicated,”

“I’m so sorry,” Anakin winced. “The way people spoke, I thought… believe me, I didn’t mean to offend you or your marriage.”

“Well, the gossip rags all thought that’s what it was, and we decided not to challenge it. Wasn’t worth the trouble, really, not when we could be traveling and helping people.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be enough to be her Consort. I’m younger than her. No experience in any sort of humanitarian work of political knowledge. I am afraid I am going to be horrible at it and that the country will notice, her parents will notice, and she will eventually realize that this was all a big mistake,” Anakin confessed.

“You can fix a lot of things, Anakin, but you can’t fix a broken heart. Padmé could probably rule forever on her own if she wanted to, she doesn’t need anyone’s help for that. She needs someone who loves her.”

“If I’m not helping her, what am I really doing? Being an emotional support dog? I don’t want to twiddle my thumbs for the rest of my life, Darred. Is not who I am. What does a Prince Consort even do?” He groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“From what I hear, it depends on the Queen. But I’m not exactly an expert. Padmé’s the one you’ve got to talk to about these things.”

“There you are!” Yané came running towards them. “We just got a call from the hospital, Queen Jobal’s woken up. They’re preparing transportation to bring her back home now, the Princess thought you’d all want to come greet her when she arrives.”

“ _ Grand-mère vient à la maison _ ?” Pooja asked with wide eyes.

“ _ Oui, ma petite,”  _ Yané confirmed. “Anakin, that includes you. Are you coming?” Anakin’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything, just nodded.  “ _ Eh, bien. Allons-y. _ ”


	12. Late In the Night

Queen Jobal turned out to be a very regal brunette woman who did  _ not _ look like she was in her sixties, but that could have been anything from expensive cosmetics to good genes. Either way, it was easy to see where Padmé and Sola had gotten their looks. She was bound to a wheelchair, but the way she sat in it would have made Anakin think it was a throne. He stayed behind, letting the Queen’s family have their moment with her, their well-deserved reunion. He could not begin to imagine being in this kind of situation, his mother being everything to him, it would drive him mad.

“Young man, I do not bite, you can come a little closer,” the queen said, beckoning him towards her. “My husband and I did not get to meet you after you saved our girl’s life, this meeting is well overdue.”

“It’s a relief to see you recovering well, your Majesty,” Anakin replied, coming a few steps closer. “Saving the Princess’s life was an honor and I am happy I was at the right place, at the right time.”

“Modest, are we?”

“Maman,  _ please _ ,” Padmé groaned.

Anakin laughed, a very light blush covering his cheeks. “I just did what anyone in my position would. Save a beautiful woman’s life.”

“ _ J'aime celui-ci, _ ” Jobal whispered to Padmé with a smile. “And the important thing is that I am here now. I can help you with the regency until your father recovers. And your birthday, naturally.”

“ _ Grand-mère,” _ Pooja whined, tugging at the Queen’s hand and speaking in faster French than Anakin could understand, and Padmé took Anakin by the arm, moving them both towards the tea set sitting on the end table.

“She likes you.”

“That’s a relief,” he beamed. “I am very glad she has recovered. Soon, your father will too, Padmé, you’ll see,” he kissed her temple.

“It’s easier to believe that now,” she admitted, pouring out two cups of tea, and passing one to him. “I am so glad to have the extra help as well. It means we’ll have more time together.”

“That’s true. Soon you’ll be back to your normal duties, and this will be behind all of us,” he pointed out, sipping his tea. “Like a bad nightmare.”

“Soon,” she repeated somberly, taking his free hand and squeezing it. “And I’m especially glad my mother is here because I think I might have a new idea to turn the tide against your grandfather, and I’ll need her help in crafting it.”

“Oh? Is it something you can share with me?” Anakin asked curiously.

“I’m thinking it might be time to restructure the Constitution a little more thoroughly,” Padmé whispered confidentially. “To redistribute power so that no one person can take it all.”

“You’re talking about creating a Republic,” Anakin realized. “Taking the power away from the monarchy that has been in place since the early days of Naboo. Are you sure your mother will help you with that particular plan without your father conscious to give his opinion?”

“It’s a nebulous idea at the moment, but it’s a last line of defense at least,” Padmé argued. “If your grandfather gets his way, the monarchy is lost regardless, he’ll make it a dictatorship.”

“But is the idea just a ruse to get my grandfather to panic and get sloppy in his plans, or is this something permanent?”

“I don’t know yet. This only just occurred to me, Anakin. Twelve point plans do not spring fully formed from my head, you know.”

“I hope you two are not talking about politics during tea,” Jobal scolded. “Really, Padmé, I raised you better than that.”

“I’m sorry, Maman.”

“For the record, I really like your mother too,” Anakin smiled.

“Anakin, come here and tell me more about yourself, I have no wish to pull teeth from my daughter the way we did with her last five  _ beaux _ ,” Jobal said imperiously.

“You’d better do what she says, she  _ is  _ the Queen,” Padmé laughed. 

“Five?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows at Padmé, before standing and approaching the Queen, sitting at her side. “I will be glad to answer any questions, your Majesty.”

“Five men over the course of eight years is not that many!” Padmé protested as her mother chuckled. 

“Tell me about your mother. I did not get to meet her when she was here.”

“My mother is a brilliant and resilient woman. She is a pediatric nurse in a London hospital. She will be coming to Naboo in a few short weeks, I’m sure she will be delighted to meet you if you wish so.”

“In time for Padmé’s birthday, I hope.”

“I hope so too, I’ll try to see if the dates align,” he agreed.

“I’m sure she must be quite remarkable, considering that she stole away our best young pilot.”

“I know they were very much in love,” Anakin said softly. “I can understand that, from the way she speaks about him. There was a time she didn’t speak a lot about my father, I knew it hurt her so I didn’t ask too many questions, but my mentor told me a couple of things. Obi-Wan was young, but he remembers that my father was crazy about her too. I am happy that my parents had that sort of relationship.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Sola gasped. “ _ Satine’s _ Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“Hm, I do not know who Satine is, but yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I have known him all my life,” Anakin confirmed. 

“Oh, my God, we all thought he was  _ dead _ , he just disappeared.”

Anakin blanched. “Oh,  _ God  _ no. Obi-Wan is very much alive. He is a very respected teacher at Cambridge. I did not know he had dual citizenship until I returned to London after my… surprise visit to Naboo.”

“After the scandal, I do not blame him,” Jobal said, clicking her tongue sadly.

“Scandal?” Anakin asked. “What scandal? Who is Satine?” He looked around, confused. Everyone always seemed to know more than he did. “Anyone?”

“Satine Kryze is one of our delegates to the Parliament of the European Union,” Padmé explained. “She had something of an affair with Obi-Wan Kenobi, but it ended badly, and he disappeared shortly after. Satine doesn’t talk about it.”

“I can guarantee you, neither does Obi-Wan. My mother told me there was a woman in his life that had left a scar, but I always thought it was his ex-wife, Siri,” Anakin frowned. “I am starting to think Obi-Wan and I need to have a serious conversation.”

“Anakin, leave it alone,” Padmé chided softly. “If he wants to tell you, he’ll do it when he’s ready.”

“The man does not get to be a pain in my ass all my life and not be completely honest,” Anakin retorted. “Don’t worry, I will be subtle in my approach.”

“ _ Mon cher, _ subtlety is not your best trait.”

“That’s cruel,” he smirked. “We can talk about something else. What about the five boyfriends? I would love to know more!” Anakin clapped his hands, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Your Majesty? Lady Naberrie?” He prompted. 

“Let’s see, there was Ian the mayor’s son, Palo the artist,” Sola said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Two Italian models whose names we never got and then,” she paused dramatically. “Rush Clovis.”

“Italian models,” Anakin repeated with a low whistle. “That’s quite the repertoire for me to be compared to,” he said. “How am I faring so far?”

“I would hardly call Luca and Giulio boyfriends,” Padmé muttered. “And you’re doing  _ very  _ well.”

“Who is my biggest competition, Lady Naberrie? She’s biased, I can’t trust her,” he nodded his head towards Padmé.

“Probably either Palo or Rush,” Sola said with a smirk as Padmé buried her face in a throw pillow. “But I already like you better than Rush.”

“Thank you, Lady Naberrie,” Anakin beamed at her. “So, the artist and Rush Clovis,” he repeated thoughtfully. “I didn’t understand what was Mr. Clovis’ occupation?”

“He doesn’t have one,” Darred scoffed as he passed a tea cake to Pooja. “He’s just waiting for his father to die so he can take over the family business. Clovis Holdings. So he spends his days bouncing around Europe to flirt with supermodels and heiresses.”

“Sounds charming,” Anakin concluded dryly.

“He was,” Padmé said defensively. “At least for the year I dated him.”

“And when you finally realized he wasn’t, you decided to take an eighteen-month break from dating until this handsome devil came along,” Sola teased, winking at Anakin.

“I am no heir to a banking business, and I am really terrible with a brush but I did create an artificial intelligence program and have a Ph.D. at twenty-one. That has to give me some advantages,” Anakin smirked, enjoying making his girlfriend squirm. “Granted, my last girlfriend complained about the amount of time I spent on my studies, but I am not in school anymore, so I don’t foresee anything that might trouble my concentration.”

“Don’t complain about my work, I won’t complain about yours,” Padmé retorted.

“Aw, is the conversation upsetting you?” Anakin teased.

“Why don’t we hear about  _ your _ ex-girlfriends next?” she shot back.

He smiled wickedly at her. “Of course, darling. I have one. What would you like to know?”

“Who’s prettier, your ex or my sister?” Sola asked, picking Pooja up and spinning her around.

“ _ Tante Padmé est la plus belle dame! _ ” Pooja shouted, clapping her hands at the spinning.

“Both are completely different women,” he started. “But obviously, your sister, of course.”

“Was she a princess too?” Ryoo asked.

“No, Amee is studying to be a primary school teacher,” he replied. “She used to joke that since she looked so much like Rapunzel in _Tangled_ , she would go to her class dressed as her once a week.”

“ _ Raiponce _ ,” Ryoo translated to her sister who gasped in delight and started babbling again.

“She sounds like a lovely girl,” Jobal remarked. “But I can’t fully say I’m sorry you two ended things if it means you’re making my daughter happy.”

“Mother, really, I’m nearly twenty-six, not sixteen!”

“We ended because we were both on different pages of our lives. Amee and I started dating when we were fifteen and we ended our relationship two years ago, next spring. I went to college earlier and it took a lot of my time, a lot of  _ our  _ time together. We were no longer making each other happy,” he explained. “I am quite happy that I decided to take my holidays here in Naboo when I did,” he added with a smile. 

“So are we, you saved Auntie Padmé,” Ryoo pointed out.

“And you’re twenty-one now? That’s a long time.”

“Yes, we almost reached the five-year mark,” Anakin nodded. Padmé pursed her lips, fiddling with a strand of her hair.

“I think we’ve talked enough about the past. Ryoo, why don’t you tell us more about Brazil?”

Anakin wanted to tease her about being jealous, but he decided against it, at least until they were alone. “What was your favorite thing?” He said, accepting the change of subject. Ryoo launched into a long explanation of all the things that the family had done, but as she talked, Padmé couldn’t help but glance at Anakin again.

* * *

Birthdays had been a complicated thing over the years for Padmé since she’d become Princess of Theed. The anniversary of her birth had gone from a private celebration to a state event, and as such, there were certain rules and protocols that had to be observed. If it had been up to her, the family (Anakin and his mother included) would have been at Varykino, having a vacation of sorts. But, with her father still in the hospital, that wasn’t really an option.

Thus, she was currently speaking with the Spanish Ambassador and her husband while trying to check over her shoulder and make certain Anakin was staying afloat. “Princess, are we boring you?”

“Not at all, Ambassador Organa,” she apologized. “Just a touch of melancholy that my Papa isn’t here.”

“So, it has nothing to do with the handsome young man your sister is speaking with?” Bail Organa asked cheekily. “The Chancellor’s grandson, if I’m not mistaken, though we haven’t been introduced.”

Padmé blushed a bit too easily. “I trust you can be discreet about such things.”

“More discreet than you,” Breha Organa teased. “Though I can’t imagine why you’d feel the need to hide.”

“State secret,” Padmé answered glibly, nodding politely. “Please excuse me.”

“Of course, dear. And happy birthday.”

“ _ Gracias, Embajadora. _ ”

Anakin was speaking with Sola, laughing at something that Pooja had done that morning when he noticed Padmé approaching them. He beamed at her. “How is the birthday Princess?” He questioned, casually holding a flute of champagne, his other hand in his pocket.

“Oh, I’m having as much fun as can be expected when one’s birthday is also practically a state dinner,” she admitted, shifting the burgundy wrap that matched her dress. “And I haven’t even opened the dancing yet.”

“Then I suggest you get a partner now,” Sola said dryly. “I’ve spotted at least two of your exes hovering around, they might be looking to rekindle things. Though not Rush, thankfully.”

“I will leave that decision up to you, darling, while I will try and see if I find my mother,” Anakin said, not wanting to pressure her into anything. Also, he’d never gotten the chance to have those dance lessons. “Qui-Gon has been with her, which I’m thankful since people seem to remember her from the short time she was in the country with my father.”

“Sola, if I can find him, will you lend me your husband for the first dance? I’d rather not have the evening turn into a hotbed of gossip.”

“Yes, of course,” Sola said slowly glancing between her sister and Anakin. “Let me see if I can find him for you. Please excuse me.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Padmé asked, looking at Anakin. “It’s just that we never got to practice, and a few pictures from these kinds of events always end up happening.”

“I don’t mind, don’t worry. It’s absolutely fine. I trust you,” he smiled. “When you’re done with your first dance, you can meet my mother.”

“That’d be wonderful.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair back into her updo. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Found my husband,” Sola announced, returning with Darred on her arm. “Go on now, do this one dance so that I can have him for all the others.”

“Of course,” Padmé laughed, dipping a curtsy. “Brother dear?”

“My pleasure.” Darred took her hand and led her out on the dance floor. Sola chuckled, taking a sip from her glass.

“Do you see that blonde woman over there?” she asked Anakin, pointing across the ballroom. “The pale one with the sharp features?  _ That’s _ Satine Kryze.”

“Obi-Wan has a style, I see,” Anakin commented. “Do you know what really happened between, Sola? What was the scandal about?”

“Simply put, he didn’t feel he could handle being the husband of a politician, especially one he disagreed with on several major issues. But really, the scandal was that he left her about two months before they were supposed to be getting married.”

“Wait, what? That’s awful!” He exclaimed. “I know Obi-Wan and how considerate he is, I don’t see him being capable of doing such a thing. There had to be a good reason, I mean… I don’t know Obi-Wan to be capable of something like that.”

“I’ve wondered about that too,” she admitted. “But you’d be better equipped than me to get answers about that.”

“Indeed,” he nodded. “Has she married?”

“No. Though she does still have the ring.”

“Could you introduce us?” Anakin asked.

“Are you planning on bringing up the situation with your mentor?”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “No. Contrary to what your sister believes, I can be subtle. I have researched about Satine Kryze and I know the work she develops both in the EU Parliament and the charity organizations she supports. We tend to have some common interests and I would like to get to know her.”

“I’ll tell you what’s not subtle,” Sola said under her breath. “Alright, fine, Lord Skywalker, I’ll get you an introduction.”

“Lord Skywalker?” He made a face. “That’s oddly formal. It makes me feel old.”

“Would Your Highness be preferable?” He blanched at that. “Because you seem to be learning how to be a Prince Consort very quickly, given that research you just listed,” she teased, taking him by the arm and leading him along the edge of the dancefloor. “But in all seriousness, Anakin, if you want to be with Padmé, you’re going to have to get used to formality.”

“I’ve researched a woman who I was interested in due to her relationship with my mentor. It was sort of a stalker move, I know. I am not learning how to be anything at the moment, Sola, I don’t even know what one of  _ those  _ does,” he pointed out, annoyed. “If we could please not speak about that tonight, I would appreciate it. We’ve only been officially dating for three weeks. Let’s not ring the wedding bells just yet.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged nonchalantly, coming to a stop in front of the blonde woman. “Lady Satine.”

“Lady Sola, a pleasure. as always.” Satine kissed the former princess on both cheeks.

“Likewise. Might I present Anakin Skywalker?”

“Ah, yes, our esteemed Chancellor’s estranged grandson.” Satine smiled graciously, extending a hand to him.

“I have heard a lot about your work, Lady Satine, it’s a pleasure,” he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“I do my level best to serve the people of Naboo,” she answered graciously. “And I have heard quite a bit about you. Although I’m sure you must be tired of hearing how much you look like your father by this point.”

“Yes, but at the same time, I spent twenty-one years wondering who he was and if we had anything in common. When I think of how tiring it’s becoming, I remember how I longed for it. Every time someone says it, I feel closer to him in a way,” Anakin explained. “I’ve heard about your work with some organizations that make education available to many children in third world countries and also, how you support some charities that help single-parent families raise their children among financial difficulties and often homelessness, and I was wondering if you could tell me more about your work. These two themes, in particular, are quite personal to me.”

“Well, they’re part of a greater effort, really,” she answered. “I’m a pacifist by nature, it’s my firm belief that the best way to achieve a lasting global peace is to make sure that families are given both stability and access to education. I’d like to think our efforts have succeeded thus far. That the Royal Family endorses my efforts has certainly helped matters. You’re currently contracted with the RSF, is that right?”

“I am, yes but when I was in college, doing my Ph.D., I had a teacher who asked me what I would like to do with my knowledge, with my research. Something that didn’t involve getting rich, by selling my program to the highest bidder,” he started. “I told him I would like to improve the education system. We have so many public schools, I’m not only speaking about England, that do not have the same benefits, the same access to top of the line software and technology and that it’s an equal right for all the kids,” Anakin said. “Just because some parents are not able to pay for private education, it does not mean their children are not worthy of having the same computer programs, the same material to study and access higher education. I always thought I would get involved with programs that supported the same ideal.”

“Well, when your contract is up, don’t hesitate to contact my office, I’m sure we could arrange something.” Satine looked away for a moment to applaud with the rest of the guests as the song ended. “I assume you’ll be reclaiming your husband now, Sola.”

“Naturally.” Sola grinned, sauntering away.

“I will be delighted to work with you, Lady Satine,” Anakin beamed. “For how long will you be in Naboo?”

“Only a week before I have to return to Brussels, I’m afraid. I really only came to check on my family estates and attend tonight’s festivities.”

“Satine, I thought I wouldn’t see you tonight,” Qui-Gon said, approaching them and giving Satine a kiss on the cheek. “You look wonderful, my dear.”

“Where’s my mother, Qui-Gon?” Anakin questioned.

“With the Queen. They are getting along fantastically well. Like two best friends,” he said with a snicker. “When I left, they were speaking about color schemes. For what, I can only imagine,” he patted Anakin’s shoulder. “I thought I would be the one to have the pleasure to introduce you both. I don’t know if you were told, Satine, but Anakin here is Obi-Wan’s pupil.”

Satine’s already pale features lost what color they still had. “Excuse me,” she said, her soft voice suddenly strained. “I enjoyed meeting you, Anakin.”

“You too, Lady Satine,” Anakin replied apologetically. She nodded awkwardly and turned on her heel in quite a hurry. “Why would you do that?” He snapped.

“Mending old mistakes,” Qui-Gon replied. “Has Obi-Wan said anything to you about returning home?”

“No,” Anakin answered dryly. “Why would he?”

“I think you know why. Or were you speaking with his former fiancée on a whim?”

“I was being much more subtle than you were,” he scowled. “It looked like you had stabbed her,” he made a face. “Sola told me he left her two months before they were to be married. Do you think Obi-Wan would come if I told him about Satine?”

“It’s entirely possible, given that’s why Siri left him,” Qui-Gon mused. “Or so he led me to believe when he called me while sodding drunk after the divorce.”

“Then maybe I could speak with him tomorrow, see if he can make it to Naboo before Satine departures. Now, excuse me, I have to see if I can steal my girlfriend away to give her my gift,” he handed Qui-Gon his flute of champagne and walked away. 

Padmé was deep in conversation with an older Indian man, whom Anakin suspected was her ‘Uncle’ Ono.

“Your Highness?” He addressed Padmé. “If I could steal you for a moment?”

“Do you mind, Uncle Ono?”

“This is your birthday celebration, my dear, go ahead,” Onaconda said with a smile.

“Thank you.” Padmé slipped her hand into Anakin’s as formally as possible while still being intimate. “I should warn you, stealing a Princess can be considered a crime, Mr. Skywalker.”

“Oh, it’s just for a couple of minutes, your Highness. Your Shadow guaranteed me that the east balcony would provide us with privacy,” he replied with a grin. “I need to give you my gift, after all.”

“I thought I told you I don’t need anything,” she protested as she followed him out of the ballroom.

“This one is special,” he defended.

“Is that so?” she asked in surprise. “Well, I suppose I’m curious now.”

Anakin chuckled as they crossed the threshold to the empty balcony overlooking the gardens. “Alone at last,” he smiled as he leaned against the stone railing. “I hear our mothers are getting along.”

“It seemed that way,” she agreed, shifting her wrap to more thoroughly cover her shoulders. “I’m glad, though. It’d be awful if they were at odds with each other. And I still need to meet your mother properly, once you’ve shown me whatever it is you’re up to.”

“Turn around,” he asked softly.

“What?”

“Turn around,” Anakin chuckled. “Please.” She complied, but kept her head turned, looking at him suspiciously. “Look in front of you, stop being so difficult!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Tell me what you’re up to,” she insisted with a huff.

“I am certainly not going to bend you over the railing and take you, no matter how appealing it is,” he said in a flippant tone. She let out a soft moan at the thought.

“Not fair putting that image in my head,” she complained, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Maybe another night, when the palace is not flooded with your friends and diplomats from all over Europe,” he said huskily, before poking her sides. “Let me surprise you, please. Look at the gardens, love, come on.” Padmé sighed and obliged him.

Silently, he took found his pocket a necklace. It was platinum, with a single, white diamond. It was simple and discreet, something he knew she could wear formally and casually, without attracting too much attention. He had thought about a ring, but he immediately discarded the thought as people would believe she was engaged. His mother, however, had given him the perfect solution. 

Putting his arms around her, he placed the necklace around her neck, clasping it and kissing the curve of her shoulder. “It’s special because this necklace was a gift from my father to my mother when they celebrated her birthday for the first time together. She stopped wearing it when he died and she is more than happy to pass on this heirloom to you.”

“Anakin,” Padmé opened her eyes and lifted the pendant up slightly so she could look at it. “Thank you, it’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it.” Turning in his arms, she pressed her hands against his chest and leaned into him, looking up with wide, adoring eyes.

“I’m glad you like it, love,” he whispered, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

“I don’t like it,” she corrected. “I love it. Almost as much as I love you.”

“Padmé, I…” he looked down at her, shocked and for a moment, he couldn’t think straight or form any coherent sentence. She looked down, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, it’s… it’s too soon, I shouldn’t have…”

He raised her chin with his finger and put his lips on hers, in a soft but romantic kiss. He might not have been able to say the words back, but he could reassure her she hadn’t scared him.

What the couple didn’t notice, absorbed in their own little world, was the photographer standing a few windows away, registering their moment in many, many photographs.


	13. My Idea of Luxury

“This is going too far!” Padmé shouted furiously, brandishing the morning edition of TriNebulon for everyone in the room to see. The kiss she and Anakin had exchanged on the balcony the night before was plastered across the cover with the utterly trite tagline of  **STAR-CROSSED.** “This is a complete violation of privacy!”

“Though not exactly inaccurate,” Sabé pointed out dryly, glancing at Anakin and Qui-Gon. Anakin silently glared at her. Having to, again, wake up to a ‘scandal’ where his picture was, again, in the cover of trashy magazines, was giving him migraines and he was  _ this  _ close of throwing something at  _ someone. _

“Sabé,  _ please. _ ”

“We obviously suspect who is behind this,” Eirtaé said calmly. “Has your grandfather been in touch with you, Anakin?”

“He left a voicemail, asking to meet with me today,” he replied sourly. “Probably so he can interrogate me about my relationship with Padmé. I am not sure if I will see him today, but I won’t be able to avoid him for much longer.”

“We can give you the excuse of having obligations at work,” Qui-Gon offered. “But that won’t last forever.”

“Until we know exactly what I can tell him, I will put it off,” Anakin said.

“He’s trying to force our hand, just like he did when your paternity was revealed,” Padmé seethed. “Make it so that we have no choice but to go public.”

“The palace needs to release a statement regarding these pictures. They can’t be denied. They are clear shots of the two of you and no one can question that,” Sabé pointed out. “Have you two talked about what you want to say in that statement?”

“We only found out about this an hour ago!”

“How long do you want to wait for a statement?” Eirtaé asked.

“There are dozens of paparazzi at the gates, Princess, they won’t leave until we give them something,” Qui-Gon added.

Anakin didn’t comment, he rubbed his forehead and supported his chin on his hand.

“I’d  _ like  _ to give them all a beating,” Padmé groused. “This has crossed the line from a free press into predation. There need to be consequences.”

“You two can’t stay in the Palace forever.”

“Whatever you all decide is the best course of action, please take it,” Anakin said. “I, however, have a brunch date with my mother that I am not missing,” he stood and without another word, left the conference room. Padmé sighed and got up, following him. 

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, but won’t they need you in there?”

“I’m not thinking clearly any more than you are,” she admitted. “Having brunch with my boyfriend and his mother is a welcome distraction. Besides, our first meeting got postponed last night, given how long we spent on the balcony, and then I had to see to my other guests. I need to make it up to her.”

“Of course. I think she might be waiting for me in the dining room. She will love the chance to meet you privately.”

Padmé sighed, falling in step with him and resting her head against his arm. “That whole Republic idea is looking more tempting by the minute.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about it? It’s a big thing to decide on your own.”

“I have, but I don’t know how seriously she’s taking it. I think she believes it’s just a diversionary tactic.”

“And she is wrong?” Anakin wondered. “Padmé, turning Naboo into a Republic, could lead many to rebellion, I think. Not to mention how the political parties will become affected. I think it’s a great idea to lure my grandfather into admitting his crimes, however, you really should wait until your father recovers to discuss with him the possibility of becoming a permanent idea.”

“Anakin,” Padmé stopped short and sighed. “You’re probably right. I guess I’m even more upset right now than I originally thought.”

“It was a moment of our privacy that was cruelly invaded. You have every right to be upset,” he kissed her temple as they reached the dining room.

Shmi Skywalker was a woman well within her forties but looked as radiant as she probably did in her early thirties. Her straight, brown hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and her brown eyes light up when she spotted her son. Dressed in a black jumper with camel flats, she jumped from her seat at the table to rush towards Anakin, enveloping him in a tight hug.

“I’m alright, Mum,” he smiled, returning the hug and rubbing her back.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry about what is happening,” Shmi whispered, pulling away to caress his cheek. “If your father were here, he would know what to do to protect you.”

“I’m sorry for my part in this, Ms. Skywalker, I’m sure you never had this problem with Anakin’s other girlfriends,” Padmé apologized glibly.

“Do not worry yourself about that, darling, your privacy was invaded as much as Anakin’s,” Shmi replied kindly. “Every girlfriend comes with her challenges,” she chuckled. 

“I was not able to introduce you both yesterday at the party, but I did tell you that my mother was amazing, didn’t I?” Anakin beamed, squeezing Padmé’s hand.

“You did,” Padmé confirmed, extending a hand to Shmi. “A pleasure to finally meet you. Anakin has built you up quite a bit.”

“I hope not too much, sweetheart?” Shmi turned to her son.

“Only the truth,” Anakin quipped.

“In turn, your Highness, he hasn’t spoken about anything else but you for the past six months!” Shmi said and Anakin blushed.

“Oh, is that so?” Padmé looked at Anakin with a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Of course, during the time where you only spoke through telephone, he would speak about this  _ girl  _ he had met. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I knew the truth, he was trying so hard to protect me,” Shmi chuckled as she turned to the table. Anakin pulled her chair and she thanked him. “But he raved about how much the two of you connected.”

“Mum, please,” Anakin whined, embarrassed as he repeated his actions with Padmé.

“Oh, would you prefer I showed her your baby album?” Shmi retorted.

“You didn’t!” He exclaimed.

“I go nowhere without it,” his mother quipped.

Padmé’s eyes lit up and she rubbed her hands together. “Turnabout is fair play, Anakin, you’ve seen my royal baby portraits. I would  _ love _ to see those, Ms. Skywalker.”

“I will be happy to show them to you, darling,” Shmi beamed and Anakin groaned, taking his seat. “I was very glad to see your mother recovering so well. Your father is making progress as well, I heard?”

“The last I heard, yes, but that was yesterday. And this morning’s fiasco with the press hasn’t given me the chance to check with the hospital,” Padmé admitted. “But somehow, I get the feeling that can wait till after we’ve eaten. No one’s reasonable when they’re hungry.”

“Your mother seemed very hopeful yesterday,” Shmi replied. “I am sure he’ll return to his duties in no time.”

“Nothing would make me happier than having everyone I care about alive and well.”

“Have you discussed how will you handle today’s top news?” Shmi asked, glancing between the couple. Anakin stiffened as he chewed on a croissant slowly. “I believe a fast course of action will prevent the rumors from becoming unhinged.”

“It’ll also put the Chancellor one step closer to what he wants,” Padmé said, picking an orange from the fruit bowl and peeling it slowly. “I don’t know how aware you are of the crown matrimonial, but suffice to say, our relationship going public would benefit him quite a bit.”

“Won’t it only benefit him if we marry?” Anakin asked.

“That’s the endgame, yes, but given that he thinks you’re oblivious to his plans, he probably feels making sure everyone knows we’re involved will keep us on that path.” She pulled out one of the orange wedges. “Though I don’t know why, seeing as I ended my last relationship by refusing a marriage proposal.”

“What?” He questioned. “Rush Clovis proposed to you?”

“I turned him down, obviously.”

“Why did you refuse his proposal?” Anakin asked curiously. “From what I’ve been told about him, he seemed like the perfect fit for the role,” Shmi kicked him underneath the table and he made a face.

“He put me on the spot. Publicly,” Padmé answered, not noticing the family interaction as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “I know my relationships aren’t always something I can keep private, but we dated for long enough that he should have known I consider spectacles like that to be gauche.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask how he did it,” Shmi chuckled, Anakin rolled his eyes, sipping his coffee uninterested.

“Literal fireworks on the marina during a regatta at Montecarlo.”

“Bold,” Shmi commented, drinking her tea. “He wanted to make a statement.”

“I don’t think there needs to be any statement made with a proposal other than that you love each other. It’s certainly not something an entire city needs to be privy to. And the fact that we were together so long and he didn’t understand that told me we weren’t a good match.”

“Luc knew Rush’s father. Damian Clovis. They had a mutual dislike for each other,” Shmi smirked. “Luc believed the Clovis family to be a bunch of show-offs who had nothing useful to do with their money.”

“That does happen quite a bit,” Padmé agreed. “But I think we should stop talking about this before Anakin tries to stab the table.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said dryly, setting the knife he was using to angrily butter the bread down. 

“Has Qui-Gon spoke to you about your father’s inheritance?” Shmi changed the subject.

“No,” Anakin replied. “What inheritance?”

“Given that your paternity is revealed, Luc’s assets are now legally yours,” she said. “Qui-Gon said he has been taking care of the paperwork to transfer everything to your name. I thought he might have said something by now.”

“He hasn’t said anything and that’s not my main concern,” he frowned.

“Well, in case you wanted to do anything with fireworks,” Shmi smirked and he gave her a scandalized look. “Just kidding, sweetheart,” she sipped her tea innocently.

“We’ve only been dating for three weeks, I hardly think we need to think about such things.”

“So the months you’ve been talking into the wee hours of the morning don’t count?”

“We were getting to know each other and it was us being friends,” Anakin pointed out. “Dating, officially, only for three weeks. We don’t want people to believe I’ve knocked her up already, do we?”

“It’s pretty easy to disprove that, given enough time,” Padmé quipped. “Though you’re right.”

“For someone who didn’t want me to marry too early into my twenties, you’re very anxious, Mum,” Anakin said accusingly.

“Young to marry Amee, yes,” Shmi shrugged, raising her eyebrows, clearly indicating her issue had been with the girl in question.

“Honestly, the press will probably have a field day if we include the fact that Anakin was the one to save me from the original assassination attempt. That might be the best way we can curb your grandfather’s actions,” Padmé mused. “Hopefully.”

“Releasing a statement that it was me who saved you six months ago, you think that would work?” Anakin asked.

“I think we could spin it, with the right wording. Though we will obviously be leaving out the time Sabé abducted you.”

“We can release whatever you feel is the correct thing. But we release a statement and then what? What happens? What is expected of us?” Anakin questioned.

“Well, we could technically go out in public, though the press would be interested in any instance of that,” Padmé said, tenting her fingers. “But the longer it goes without going beyond where we are at present, the more mundane it seems to them.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” Anakin said, munching on a cracker. “Whatever needs to be done.”

“Maybe we can talk about something else. Let’s not have politics ruin this entire meal,” Shmi said apologetically. “I’m sure you have questions beyond Anakin’s baby pictures.”

“I would like to know how you and Luc came to meet. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all, it’s actually quite a funny story,” Shmi laughed merrily. “He was off duty from the Embassy one night and happened to be in the same pub as my friends and I were while celebrating the end of our exams. Somewhere in the midst of a trivia contest, he got into a fistfight defending your Queen Amidala’s honor against that of Queen Elizabeth the First. It earned him a rather nasty cut over his eye and while I was bandaging him up until the ambulance could arrive, he looked straight at me and asked if I was an angel.”

“Like father, like son, I see.” Padmé looked at Anakin with a smile. He chuckled and looked down at his coffee.

“He asked to stay at my flat that night so he wouldn’t get in trouble with his boss, and we ended up talking through the night. He was still rather drunk at the time.” Shmi smiled wistfully.

“When I got drunk and involved in a fistfight at a pub, I didn’t hear the end of it,” Anakin teased. “Still takes a jab at me from time to time.”

“Because I thought I raised you to be better than that.”

“You raised him very well,” Padmé said reassuringly. “Everyone who’s met Anakin has had nothing but positive comparisons between him and his father.”

“They are very alike,” Shmi smiled. “In many more ways than Anakin realizes. Luc always spoke excitedly about being a father. My biggest regret is that he never got to know I was expecting. That he never met Anakin. ”

Padmé and Anakin exchanged a brief glance that was interrupted by a knock at the door. Padmé frowned. “Are we expecting anyone else?”

“Not that I know of,” Anakin answered.

“Let me take care of it, it might be for me.” Padmé stood and crossed to the door, opening with some relief as she saw it was only Eirtaé. “What is it?”

“There’ve been several calls from the Chancellor’s office, Princess. He’s been asking to speak to Anakin. Or both of you, if possible.”

“Tell him we’re both otherwise engaged.”

“You really want to use that word, Princess?” Eirtaé asked with raised eyebrows.

“Modify it as you see fit, Eirtaé, the point is that we’re busy!” Padmé snapped, swatting her away with a huff. “Take care of it, that’s your job!”

“What is it, Padmé?” Anakin questioned as Eirtaé left biting her tongue so she didn’t reply to the Princess in a less than positive way.

“Palpatine wants to see you. No doubt interested in giving you his full support and advice in this latest development,” Padmé grumbled, coming back to the table and practically shoveling eggs into her mouth.

“I should go see him,” Anakin sighed as his mother made a face. “I know, I’m not thrilled about it either, Mum, but he won’t stop chasing us if I don’t.”

“You can go on the condition that we don’t bring him up again for the remainder of this meal. I would like to enjoy my time with you two. Agreed?”

“I  _ can  _ go? Did I need your permission?” He teased. Shmi narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright, agreed.”

“Good.”

* * *

“Anakin. Thank you for coming to see me.”

“I apologize for taking so long, the press was insane outside the palace and it was a nightmare to leave,” he sighed, taking a seat in front of his grandfather. “As you can imagine, it’s complete chaos.”

“Royal relationships tend to have that effect on people,” Palpatine answered sagely. “Though I must admit, I’m pleasantly surprised to know about the two of you. It warms my old heart to see you happy.”

“I am happy, but I have to say, having my relationship be plastered on the front page of trashy magazines, it’s very annoying and I am very tired of having this happen to me,” Anakin scowled. “It’s an absolute nightmare and we were not ready to have our relationship be public so soon. We haven’t been dating for a very long time and I already spoke with Qui-Gon to take legal matters against the magazine.”

“You can always count on my support as well, Anakin, I hope you know that. Your father and I might not have parted on the best of terms, but I know in my heart that he would only want what’s best for you, just as I do.”

“I would like to find out who is responsible for leaking these pictures and for leaking the pictures of who I was last month. I want the person found and charged for invading my privacy,” he said seriously. “I know it has to be the same source and I am not putting up with this anymore.”

“Of course not. But it may be an uphill battle, Anakin. And it is something of an inevitability for people like us.”

“I want this magazine sued and their source revealed,” he growled. “They’ve been messing up my life for the past month and I am done playing their game. This has gone too far. Just because they deemed fit to expose mine and Padmé’s relationship, they shouldn’t think they can get away unscathed.”

“I understand. I only meant that perhaps you would have been more prepared to handle this if you had grown up knowing who you are.”

“My childhood, my life so far, has been happy and I always had everything I needed. I don’t know if it would have been the same, raised in this lifestyle. This might not be what you want to hear, grandfather, but I am glad my mother protected me from this,” Anakin scowled.

“I don’t mean to cause offense, Anakin.”

“These stories are offending me,” he bit back. “The lack of privacy is offending me. Not being able to stand up for myself is offending me.”

“The situation will be handled, I assure you,” Palpatine promised. “I suppose the palace will be releasing a statement on behalf of the Princess.”

“I believe so, yes,” Anakin nodded, trying to calm down so he wouldn’t, accidentally, say something that he shouldn’t. 

“Don’t let them do anything without your approval. How this relationship is presented will affect your future. Significantly. The last thing we would want is for you to be seen as the Princess’ arm candy.”

“What is your advice regarding their statement, then? What should I pay attention to in it?”

“Don’t let it seem like you weren’t the one to initiate. You’re the one in control, you are more than a match for her, you cannot let anyone forget it.” There was an unexpected amount of venom in Palpatine’s voice.

Anakin was taken aback. “What you mean is that I should be seen as the one who pursued her and not the other way around? That I am the one in control of our relationship?”

“Exactly. It is the one card you have to play. She’ll want to keep you happy, after all.”

“Grandfather, one thing I’ve learned about the Princess is that she is not submissive and she will not agree with such terms. She knows her position and her power very well. She won’t let me, or any man, for that matter, control it.”

“The pictures from last night suggest otherwise.”

Anakin shook his head. “I was giving her a gift for her birthday.”

“A family heirloom, I notice.”

“It was a gift from my father to my mother, on the first birthday they spent together.”

“And a gift I gave your grandmother at our wedding.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Anakin said. “It just makes it more special this way. I wanted to give her something with a real meaning than just a piece of jewelry,” he turned to look at the clock. “I should be getting back. There are a few work assignments I need to focus on and I did promise my mother we would have dinner together this evening.”

“Of course. I have my own work to take care of as well. And please.” He paused. “Do feel free to bring your mother to visit me at some point. It’s been over twenty years, we should get reacquainted.”

* * *

“He did not say that.”

“Oh, I can believe he did,” Qui-Gon said as he finished slicing the last of the garlic. “He can be audacious when he wants to.”

“He wants me to be seen as the alpha male of the relationship,” Anakin sighed, chopping off the vegetables. “With his endgame being the crown matrimonial, if Padmé dies, he wants the people to look up at me and see someone who can take charge of the monarchy. It’s despicable.”

“I don’t know why he thinks you would be so crass. Or why he would ever believe I’d willingly set foot in his house after our last meeting,” Shmi scoffed, adding pasta to the boiling pot on the stovetop.

“Luc did not tell me the details, only said he fell more in love with you that day,” Qui-Gon smirked.

“How did that meeting go?” Anakin asked curiously, adding the vegetables to a pan and started to add the condiments.

“Well, let me see, Luc and I said we were planning on going back to England together, Sheev called me a gold-digging guttersnipe and said that Luc would be throwing away his life if he went through with this, I called him a heartless political dinosaur and said that I’d want to be with Luc no matter who he was. And then we stormed out together. We were planning to stay in London forever, have an ordinary life free of political intrigue.”

“You are a savage, Mum, I love you,” Anakin beamed and kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait for the moment he’s taken down for what he’s done to everybody. Every meeting we have, I have to control myself not to say something I will regret. Just today, I was so angry. I wanted to tell him directly I wanted him to burn in hell for messing up my life this way.”

“Soon enough,” Qui-Gon promised. “We’re working on it, you know that. In the meantime, we can see about finishing supper. And just for fun...” He picked up his handset and put it on speakerphone while dialing a number.

“Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan’s voice filled the room. “What is it? Is Anakin alright? I’ve been fending off students asking about him all day.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Obi-Wan, thank you,” Anakin replied. “What are the students saying?”

“Asking if I knew you were dating the Princess and if that was why you left so suddenly. And a few that were  _ highly  _ inappropriate. I’ve had to have several calls with the dean regarding that. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“No,” Anakin admitted flatly. “I’m hating the media attention, but there’s nothing that I can do about it. I’m so sorry you are dealing with so much backlash, Obi-Wan. I never meant to drag you into my problems.”

“It almost sounds like you need a break, old friend,” Qui-Gon quipped.

“If you’re trying to suggest I come back to Naboo, you know I won’t.”

“Anakin, what was the name of that lovely woman you met at Padmé’s party last night?” Shmi asked.

“Who? Satine Kryze?”

There was a long silence on the end of the line. “That was low, Shmi. I never betrayed your trust when it came to Luc.”

“I am so sorry, Obi-Wan, these two are a bad influence on me,” Shmi lamented.

“Satine is a really lovely woman, Obi-Wan. She’s staying in Naboo for one more week. If you’re interested,” Anakin quipped.

“Anakin, stop it.”

“You left her two months before you were to marry, Obi-Wan, maybe it’s time you two had a conversation?” Qui-Gon pointed out. “You know why Siri left you. You should do the right thing for once.”

“The right thing is staying away and not reopening old wounds,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “If you called me just to harass me, I’m going to hang up.”

“Don’t hang up,” Anakin asked. “Obi-Wan, I would really like if you came to Naboo. Not for Satine, that’s something you have to decide on your own, but to help me. Support me. I’m barely keeping it together, right now and while I’ve appreciated Qui-Gon’s advice so far, you know I trust your judgment. I’m being thrown around like a soccer ball and I’m getting really tired of it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t abandon my classes so abruptly, Anakin, much as I want to help. I’m sorry.”

“You could get Windu to cover your classes, but I understand. Sorry I asked,” Anakin muttered bitterly.

“I might be able to visit during the holidays. One never knows.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice,” Anakin shrugged as he started frying the vegetables. 

“I have to get back to all the grading I need to do alone now. Thanks to you leaving me for your Princess.”

“Satine still wears your ring. Goodnight, Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon said cheerfully and hung up before Anakin could reply to the jab.

“You’re horrible,” Shmi commented.

“He needs a push,” Qui-Gon shrugged. The phone began to ring again, flashing the palace ID on the display. “One moment.” He did not answer it on speakerphone, instead putting it to his ear. “Yes?” Anakin and Shmi watched as he listened and nodded. “Understood. Is anyone needed? Alright. Thank you.” He hung up, looking to Anakin and Shmi. “The Royal Family is on their way to the hospital. His Majesty is being taken into surgery.”


	14. All These Nights We're Spending

Padmé sat by her father’s bedside, squeezing his hand tightly as she watched the monitors. According to Dr. Che, the surgery had been a success, but the waiting for Ruwee’s eyes to open was agonizing. “Come on, Papa, please,” she whispered.

“Darling, in time,” Jobal reminded her softly. “The worst is over. He’s going to be fine. Get up, stretch your legs.”

“I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“Watched pots don’t boil,” Jobal reminded her. “Besides, there are other visitors outside who are just as much here for you as they are for your father. Including your handsome young man.”

“ _ Maman!” _

“Handsome...yes...young...thank you,” a new voice croaked from the bed. “But no.”

“Papa!” Padmé gasped, turning back to her father. Ruwee smiled at her weakly. “Oh, thank God!”

“Not so loud, _ ma petite, _ ” he whispered.

“Sorry.” Padmé blushed.

“ _ Mon cher. _ ” Jobal moved in closer, taking his hands with an expression that made Padmé feel just a bit uncomfortable.

“Alright, I can see when I’m not wanted,” she sighed dramatically, getting up from her chair and going into the waiting room where the RSF team was waiting, Anakin among them. “The King is awake,” she announced to a round of applause. Anakin beamed happily at her as his mother sighed in relief at his side, nudging him forward.

He approached her and kissed her forehead. “Didn’t I tell you he would recover fully?”

“In the future, I won’t doubt you.” She pulled him down for a proper kiss, albeit a soft, tender one. “I’ll need to stay long enough to hand back power to my father, but after that, how about we go on a vacation? I think we’ve earned it.”

“That sounds fantastic. Where would we go?” He grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“My favorite place in the world. Varykino,” she answered. “Remember?”

“Hmm, I do,” he kissed her sweetly. “I can’t wait, we really deserve it.”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Do you want to meet my father now? I assume he and my mother have had their private moment by this point.”

“It’s probably too soon. He just woke up and I’m sure he would prefer to speak with you and see his grandchildren first,” Anakin replied.

“I suppose you have a point,” Padmé admitted. “I’m just so relieved. And now he gets to properly intimidate you.”

“Wonderful,” he drawled out.

“I’m teasing!”

Anakin chuckled and shook his head. “I will love to meet him when he is out of the hospital and has had the time to get up to date with the recent events. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you to be with your family and am returning to work.”

“Take care of yourself,  _ mon chevalier. _ ”

 

* * *

“So, what do you think?” Padmé spun around the villa’s terrace with her arms wide open, indicating the full vista of the lake district behind her. “Beautiful, yes?”

“It’s breathtaking,” he said, completely blown away by the view and the location. “No wonder this is your favorite location for a vacation. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave.”

“Well, after a week of political formalities, it’s definitely what we need,” she agreed, leaning against the balcony railing. “There’s a private beach, and an island across the lake, everything we could want for a completely secluded getaway.”

“I hope so,” he sighed as he came to stand at her side, taking in the view of the lake. “Last time we thought we had privacy, we ended up in the front cover of a trashy magazine.”

“Last time we weren’t careful. That’s why we waited a week, the RSF was making certain no journalist can be within a kilometer of the estate. We’re well and truly alone here.”

“Good,” he grinned, leaning down so he could kiss her. “It has been well overdue that we had some time to ourselves.”

“Absolutely. Just Anakin and Padmé, on holiday in the country. We can do anything we want.”

“Exactly,” he beamed. “Show me around or would you prefer to have lunch first?”

“I was thinking we could take a quick dip in the lake before lunch, actually,” she suggested, running her fingers over the collar of his shirt. “The water is divine, even in February.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Lead the way?”

“Gladly.” She started unbuttoning her own shirt with one hand as she took his hand with the other and led him down a small set of stairs towards the aforementioned private beach. “I hope you don’t mind going  _ au naturel. _ ”

He let her pull him along, raising one eyebrow. “I know you said measures had been taken and we are completely alone, but skinny dipping in the middle of the day when the paparazzi have done nothing but chase us for the last week is intimidating. I don’t want to end up naked in a magazine.”

“Oh, alright,” she sighed. “I’ll keep my underwear on.”

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Anakin raised his eyebrows. “I just fear how cunning these photographers can get and there is no guarantee that my grandfather hasn’t paid some of them some generous sum to make them follow us day and night, wherever we go.”

“It’s just that I find you so,” she paused on the edge of the beach as she looked at him, “Addicting. And we haven’t gotten to be alone lately. I’ve missed that.”

“With your father recovering and our relationship out in the open, it has been difficult, yes, but we have this whole vacation to ourselves,” he smiled.

“So, that’s a no to lake sex?” she pouted. 

“Trust me, I would love to. But can you tell me, right now, that you are one hundred percent secure that we’re not being photographed right now?” Anakin sighed.

“Alright, but you better make it up to me.” She pulled off her blouse and skirt, standing in her camisole and underwear.

“A lot of bedroom sex, I promise.” He vowed and undid his belt and pulled down his pants, discarding it and his shoes to the side. Pulling his shirt over his head, he was left in nothing but his boxer briefs.

“Every night?”

“And every morning,” he chuckled, kissing the corner of her lips. “Maybe even in the afternoon too.”

“Oh, aren’t you bad,” she cooed, tugging him towards the water. “I love it.  _ Trés  _ sexy.”

“I’m the worst,” he retorted cheekily, diving into the water, before coming up and pulling his hair back. “You were right, the water really is great for February.”

“Naboo won the environmental lottery,” she laughed, following him into the water and stretching out to float on her back. “And now I get to share it with you.”

“It’s beautiful and that is undeniable,” he smiled. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he swam around for a bit. “Did any of the previous five ever make it to Varykino?”

“Only Palo. And he was more interested in painting the landscape than anything else,” she answered.

“Oh, really? So not even Rush made it this far?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “Why did he ever think you would say yes to his proposal?” Anakin snickered.

“Rush was more interested in trying to take me to  _ his _ family’s various properties around the world. Sentimentality was not his strong suit.”

“I’m sure he reacted well when you broke things off,” Anakin drawled out.

“Plenty of shouting about how I’d humiliated him.”

“My heart feels for him,” he said sarcastically. 

“He’s not worth the energy,  _ mon cher. _ ”

Anakin swam in her direction and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I know what is worth our energy,” he whispered in her ear.

“Racing to the island?” she countered impishly, slipping out of his arms, submerging herself underwater and resurfacing a few feet away.

“I’ll give you a headstart,” he shouted sheepishly.

“Or you could try to catch me and do what you were planning,” she called.

Anakin submerged himself and started swimming towards her. Padmé laughed and flipped onto her back, waving at him as he got closer. Then she dove down too. Faster than she was, he had his arms around her waist before they reached the shore.

“I got you,” he whispered in her ear.

“So you do,” she giggled, pressing into him. “And now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

His hand sunk lower under the water and he cupped her backside. “Hmm, hold on to me. Arms around my neck, legs around my waist,” he requested, kissing her down her neck. She obeyed, leaning into the kisses with a moan as her hands fisted in his hair. He pushed her panties aside so he could caress her womanhood. With some expertise, he managed to push down his own underwear, to free himself. “You were saying something about lake sex?” He teased her.

“I thought you said it was too risky.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, God,  _ never _ .” He smirked as he pushed inside of her, groaning at the contact, the fact that they were underwater, made it so new sensations could be felt by both of them. Padmé gasped in delight, biting down on his shoulder as her orgasm started to build. “ _ Fuck,  _ Anakin.. _. _ ”

“That’s it, love, move with me,” he coaxed, moving his hips against hers, lips against her pulse point, sucking and nipping until it left a red, angry mark.

“I’m close, I’m close…”

Anakin increased the pace, holding her tightly as he felt his own climax building. “Come for me, love. Come on.” Padmé let out a shriek as her climax hit, writhing against him in the water.

“You too,” she whispered breathlessly, slumping against him.

He came a few thrusts after her, his head falling into her shoulder as he tried to control his breathing. “I’m glad we did that,” he confessed with a chuckle, kissing her naked skin.

“See, I have a good idea every now and then,” she teased.

“Yes, you do,” he confirmed, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. “Lunch now, love?”

“Lunch,” she confirmed. “And then I’ll show you around the villa.”

“Deal, let’s return to shore and get dressed. We should freshen up anyway, before lunch,” he said, pulling away. “You’re good?”

“Satisfied for now. You?”

Anakin laughed. “You’re insatiable,” he said amused. “I’m good.”

* * *

 

“Shmi, I don’t know about this.”

“I want to try, Qui-Gon. If I can confront him, if I can put this to rest before Anakin gets hurt again, I have to try.”

“Well, he did invite you to get reacquainted,” Qui-Gon sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Your son is going to be upset that you went behind his back.”

“He’ll forgive me. However much Sheev might resent me, he wouldn’t hurt me. Not when that would make Anakin despise him openly,” Shmi pointed out.

“True,” Qui-Gon agreed. “Here we go,” he sighed and left the car, coming around to open the door to Shmi. “I’m staying in the room, alright? Luc would kill me if he ever knew I left you alone with his father.”

“It won’t come to that,” Shmi promised as they headed up the steps. “Is your own odious father going to be present too?”

“God, no. He’s in France doing God knows what, with God knows who,” Qui-Gon cringed as he rang the doorbell. “One Palpatine is enough to handle. We don’t need two. So, if my father prefers blowing off his money around Europe, let him. I support him.”

“Thank goodness.” Shmi let out a quick sigh as a maid opened the door for them.

“Monsieur Qui-Gon. Et... _ invitée _ ,” she said, looking at Shmi with a wrinkled nose.

“ _Monsieur Qui-Gon et dame Shmi Skywalker, la mére d’Anakin_ _et épouse de Lucien,_ ” Qui-Gon said sharply.

“My French isn’t  _ that _ good, Qui-Gon, but I know  _ épouse,  _ and you know Luc and I were never married.”

“Luc went around the country saying you were his wife, maybe not on paper, but in every other way. So, I will introduce you as such. When I die, I do not want my cousin to kick my ass in Heaven for being disrespectful to his memory,” Qui-Gon winked.

“You’re awfully sure you’re getting into Heaven,” she teased as they followed the maid in.

“Rude,” he mocked being offended as he led her into the study where he knew his uncle waited. Palpatine sat behind his desk, working half in shadow. “Uncle? May we come in?”

“Qui-Gon. It’s been too long. And,” Sheev’s eyes flickered briefly to Shmi. “My dear daughter-in-law, what a pleasant surprise. Please, do come in, I’m just finishing for the day.”

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Shmi said politely. “Anakin did mention that you would like to get reacquainted and now that things have settled down, for the most part, I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to speak.”

“I had been hoping Anakin would be joining us.”

“Anakin is taking a much-deserved vacation, after everything he has been through,” Shmi replied dismissively, taking a seat even if it hadn’t been offered to her. “We can speak just the three of us, can we not?”

“I suppose. Though it does make the family bonding experience a bit more difficult when the family is not complete.”

“The family will never be complete without Luc,” Shmi pointed out. 

“And whose fault is that?” Palpatine’s voice took on a harsh edge.

“Certainly not mine,” she replied calmly and Qui-Gon admired her posture. “After all, Luc did request a transfer to the Embassy in England to get away from you, did he not?” Shmi shot back with a raised eyebrow.

“Lucien was completing military service,” Palpatine growled. “He expressed no interest in ‘getting away from me,’ as you put it until he met you.”

“That was not what he told me,” Shmi fired back. “And he told me everything.”

“Uncle, I know you grieve Luc, we all do, but lashing out at Shmi is hardly appropriate,” Qui-Gon scolded. “And the reality is that you did put a lot of pressure on him, more than he deserved. He had every reason to want some distance from you.”

“Which is why I am here,” Shmi intervened in the speech. “I am not going to allow you to do the same to Anakin. There was a reason I’ve kept him from this family. The pressure you have been putting on my son since he arrived in Naboo is reprehensible.”

“I will not be lectured by the likes of you on how to manage my house and my grandson. I am merely trying to introduce him to the heritage that you denied him all his life. His birthright.”

“A birthright his own father rejected,” Shmi said coldly. “Before he is your grandson, he is my son and no one knows Anakin better than me. No one knows what it did to him, being trusted into the spotlight the way he was. I don’t know what sort of pesky lies you’ve told him, but it was you the responsible party for his name being leaked to the press and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“I would never do anything of the sort. Whatever villainous image of me you have imagined, Shmi, I suggest you let it go. I would hate for us to be at odds when we both want what’s best for Anakin. Don’t we?” Palpatine’s fingers ran across a silver letter opener on his desk.

The threat was implied and Shmi understood but didn’t fear it. Qui-Gon, however, gritted his teeth. “If you truly care for Anakin, if you ever cared for Luc at all, you will do what is best for your grandson. You will do what is right for him, not for you. For once in your life, you need to think about someone else other than yourself.”

“Did the two of you here simply come here to insult me?” Palpatine rose from his seat, looming over them. “Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed, not for myself, but for the good of this family? For this country! And you behave as though I were some kind of monster.”

“Hear this,  _ Sheev, _ ” Shmi stood as well, not wavering before his presence. “My son is my world. It was all Luc left me with and he died not even  _ knowing  _ he was going to be a father and I vowed to myself that I would protect this baby, our boy, with my own life if necessary. You might have your money and your power, but you don’t possess the love that I do and you have absolutely no idea the lengths that I will go through, to protect my son.”

“Do not underestimate  _ my _ convictions, Shmi Skywalker. You are not the only person who cares about Anakin. And I think the two of you should go before one of us says something in anger that cannot be unsaid.” 

Qui-Gon put a hand on Shmi’s shoulder, his face grim.

“You’re absolutely right,” Shmi brushed invisible wrinkles from her pencil skirt. “Until our next encounter, Chancellor.”

“Yes, of course. Hopefully, more of the family will be present at that point.” The smile he gave them bared a predatory amount of teeth.

* * *

“Okay, can I take off my blindfold now?”

“One second,” he asked and she heard him shuffling around, her hair was being blown by the wind, although it was a beautiful day and the weather was perfect, not too hot and not too cold. “Alright, you can take it off now.”

Padmé unbound the silk sash across her eyes and looked around, gasping in delight at their floral paradise. “Anakin, it’s amazing. Were you planning this long?”

“I was planning a picnic and when we returned from the beach, yesterday, we passed by these fields and I found it perfect,” Anakin beamed, delighted she had enjoyed his surprise. “It was challenging doing the food behind your back, I’ll tell you that. I hope you enjoy it, I did it all by myself,” he extended her a hand, to help her sit down on the edge of the blanket.

“Well, I love it.” She spun around once to let the white bell skirt of her dress flare out around her before she sat down. “Especially the roses all around, very romantic.”

He sat down next to her and leaned over to kiss her over, and over again. “You look amazing in that dress,” he whispered as they broke their kiss. 

“I bet I’d look even better with it off later tonight.”

“Oh, I definitely have some ideas about that,” he said cheekily. “Now eat,” he ordered, kissing her cheek. “I made all of this for you.”

“Do I get to hear the menu first, or is this an adventure?” she asked, reaching into the basket.

“Well, we have a lot of fresh fruits. Especially shuura fruit, I couldn’t forget it, now could I? Some homemade sandwiches, Shmi Skywalker style. I could list the ingredients but that is tedious, just trust me, they are good. Chocolate. A lot of it. I didn’t make it, of course, I bought your favorite brands and… champagne. To celebrate us.”

“Let’s bring it out then,” She located the bottle and started peeling back the foil. “I must warn you, though, I get very giggly with champagne.”

“I don’t mind, I love hearing you giggle,” he said as he took out the flutes.

“Well, you’re the first boyfriend I’ve had with that opinion,” she joked as she angled the bottle away from them and popped the cork out. “Catch it, it’s bubbling!”

“You should have let me open it,” he laughed as he extended the flutes to catch the flowing, golden liquid.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she laughed, filling up both flutes before taking a drink directly from the bottle. “ _ Whoo _ ! That’s the stuff!”

“We should come on vacation more often,” Anakin was still laughing as he sipped his flute.  “I like seeing this much more relaxed and open side of you.”

“We’ll do it as much as we can,” she promised seriously, putting the bottle down. “But y’know work isn’t going to make that easy.”

“Can I ask you a question? A serious one?” He looked down at his flute, mulling over his next words.

“Of course.”

“It’s regarding the roles of the royal family. Consort, for example. What is expected of this person and what sort of work is he or she supposed to do?” He questioned.

“Well, it depends on the person, really,” she admitted, twisting her hair around her finger. “Generally, the Consort acts as a policy advisor to the Monarch, but they also often engage in causes of their own. My mother’s work has largely been on the rights of children,” she explained, “but there are other charities she has a hand in too. The position isn’t defined by the Constitution as anything besides ‘the spouse of a Monarch who does not wish the full burden of the Crown.’ I suppose if you were to compare it to anything, it would be something like a combination of an American First Lady and Vice President.”

“Hmm, I see,” Anakin replied thoughtfully, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “What about what  _ can’t  _ a Consort do or be a part of?”

“Well, they generally have to have a security detail, like I normally do. And renounce citizenship if they’re foreign-born.” Padmé’s entire face puckered inwards. “Other than that, I can’t really remember. Sola abdicated long before she married, so Darred never had to go through the process.”

“Through the process… there is a process besides abdicating the nationality which you were born with?” He asked casually as he poured more champagne into their already empty flutes and opened the box with the shuura fruit.

“Criminal screenings and background checks,” she deadpanned, taking another drink, followed by a bite of shuura. “In case some terrorist tries to infiltrate us that way. Actually, Darred  _ did _ have to go through that part. But that’s it, as far as I can remember.”

“I see,” Anakin nodded, slowly chewing on a piece of fruit.  “Sounds interesting… advisor to the monarch, charity… honorable,” he said, stumbling over the words. “Have you thought about what is going to happen when we return?” He asked, quickly changing the subject.

“You mean, with our relationship?” she prompted. “I have, but I figured it would be up to you what course we took. Given how much your grandfather’s been trying to use us, and how new you are to the public eye.” She shrugged. “It should be at your pace.”

“I… I meant about your family and the plan that we have in motion to catch my grandfather in his lies and schemes,” Anakin stuttered, a light blush rising to his cheeks.

“Oh.” Her own face flushed to match his. “Well, I’ll bring up the idea of amending the Constitution with my father. Hopefully, he’ll be receptive enough to allow it to go through. And I believe the RSF still trying to track the original assassin.”

“Your father is a firm believer in tradition, isn’t he? It might be difficult to convince him of amending the Constitution. The only way he’ll allow it if that is a last resort to end the games my grandfather is playing.”

“Then Father can think it’s just a trap. Amendments to the Constitution have to be approved by Parliament anyway, it’s not something I could unilaterally do.”

“This world is  _ way  _ too complicated,” he sighed with a chuckle leaving his lips as he laid back so he could look at the blue sky above them. “I don’t know how you deal with that on a daily basis.”

“It’s always been a part of my life, I’m used to it.” She took a sandwich and had a few bites before laying next to him. “Even before I became Princess of Theed, these were things I always had to understand as Sola’s heir presumptive. And I liked it.”

“Hmm,” he said in response, closing his eyes as he played with her hair, rolling her curls around his fingers.

“Hmm?” she repeated, turning to look at him. “What’s going on inside that genius mind of yours,  _ mon cher? _ ”

“Nothing,” he clarified, lazily running his fingers through the curls he had created. “It’s our vacation, we don’t need to have our minds busy with anything but each other, right?”

“Right.” She leaned in, kissing him on the nose. Anakin turned and kissed her forehead. “Anakin, what I said at my birthday…”

His eyes flew open, but he shut them right away as the light from the sun made them water painfully. “Yes?” Anakin asked weakly.

“I’m sorry. Emotions were running high and I’d been drinking,” she sighed. “It was too soon, and I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot for saying what I said.”

Anakin sat up and pulled her to a sitting position with him. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m the one who has to apologize for not being able to say it back. I didn’t mind that you said it, we both agreed very early on, honesty was everything to us.”

She nodded, tugging slightly at the pendant of the necklace. “I understand. But it’s fine that you didn’t say it back.”

_ No, it’s not and I know it.  _ Anakin sighed and kissed the top of her head. “I found out that the necklace has more history than I thought. It was originally from my grandmother, given to her on her wedding day.”

“It seems awfully new for that,” Padmé said, unclasping it to take a better look. “Either the jeweler who made it was very ahead of their time, or I’m going to guess your grandfather told you that?”

“It’s  _ Cartier _ , it can’t just wither with time,” Anakin tilted his head. “I mean, my grandfather told me that… do you think he lied?” He frowned.

“I meant the design doesn’t really look right for the time period that he would have been getting married in,” Padmé explained. “It’s entirely possible he wanted to make you associate the necklace with marriage. Assuming he’s still angling for you to marry me before he kills me.”

Anakin touched the pendant, suddenly feeling very gullible. “I can always see if there any pictures of her with it. Anyway, that part is really not that important,” he dismissed it, dropping his hand. “Of course he is, that will be his endgame. Which means we have time to put your plan in motion. He can’t really believe I’m getting married at twenty-one.”

“I would hope not.” She grabbed the champagne bottle again. “But since we’ve gotten  _ back _ to business talk, I think the only thing to do is get sodding drunk until we can’t remember what we do for a living. Cheers?”

“I’ll drink to that,” he agreed with a deep sigh and grabbed his filled flute. “Cheers!”

* * *

 

On the third day of their getaway, it started raining. Torrentially.  Padmé and Anakin opted for staying in by the fire with a mountain of blankets, pillows, and two steaming cups of tea.

“This is not exactly the perfect weather, but I can’t complain when I get to cuddle with you for an entire day,” Anakin whispered in her ear, holding her tightly.

“It  _ is _ wonderful,” she agreed, pressing herself against him. “And I have to admit, I do love the way the world smells when it rains.”

He smiled, pressing his nose into her hair. “You know what I love?”

“Chocolate dipped strawberries?” she suggested, lifting up another from the plate and tapping it against her lips.

“You,” he whispered. Padmé blushed, dropping the strawberry.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, I should have said it that night,” he kissed the back of her neck sweetly. “It was not something I realized today, I’ve known it for a very long time and I should have said it.”

“Better late than never,” she pointed out as her back arched in pleasure. “And besides, you know what they say about love being patient.”

“Yes,” he placed his lips again at her ear. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud—”

“It puts some  _ very _ sinful thoughts in my head at this moment,” she joked.

Anakin laughed. “Love never fails,” he kissed her temple. “Corinthians. I know the passage by heart,” he shrugged as an explanation.

“Mhmm.” She turned to capture his lips. “I did a reading of it at my sister’s wedding six years ago.”

He reciprocated the kiss. “It is pretty popular at weddings. A cliché.”

“But a cute one.”

“A beautiful, romantic one. Weddings are, in general, a cliché, aren’t they?” Anakin chuckled. “How was your sister’s wedding like?”

“Small, actually. Just family and friends in one of the smaller churches in Theed, and a private reception. My sister doesn’t stand on ceremony.”

“When you think about your wedding, what do you imagine?” Anakin asked softly.

“Do you want to hear what I wish would happen, or what I think would happen?”

“Tell me both,” he requested. “I want to hear about both.”

“Ideally, it’d be here. Small and intimate, like Sola’s, on the balcony at sunset, just the people my partner and I care about,” she mused, taking his hand and tracing patterns on it idly. “But my wedding is inevitably going to be a national event. It’ll be in the National Cathedral, with countless dignitaries in attendance, and a reception at the palace afterward. But there are some things I’d be able to control. I’d be wearing the dress my grandmother wore, someone could do a reading from  _ The Epic of Set and Veré…  _ And the honeymoon is here at Varykino, no matter what.”

He cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “Maybe you can have both. The private one, here, at sunset and the big, nationwide one, where the purpose is to appease your people and create a very strong reaction relating to tourism and economics. Trust me. England’s had a few recently. It worked like a charm.”

“That’d require someone to be crazy enough to want to marry me twice,” she quipped.

“The right person will want to do it a thousand times over,” he winked.

“You think I’ll find them?” Anakin didn’t reply, he just kissed her, his fingers slipping underneath the blouse she wore, tickling her stomach and her sides. “Anakin!” she gasped in between giggles “Stop! Stop! You win!”

“What? What do I win?” He grinned.

“Whatever you want.”

He dragged his lips across her neck. “You. Naked. For the rest of the day and I can have you whenever I want to.”

“Is that all?” She immediately started pulling off her skirt.

“I already have  _ you _ , what more can I possibly need?” He shrugged, leaning back, enjoying the show.

“I don’t know, maybe you want to interrogate me further,” she answered with a little smirk. “It’s very sexy when you take control.”

“How did you feel when your sister abdicated?” Anakin asked.

“Nervous, but I didn’t blame her. I think, somehow, I always kind of knew it would happen.”

“You were suddenly the Crown Princess and all this responsibility she had, now belongs to you and you didn’t… didn’t feel like blaming her?” He tilted his head.

“She’s my sister,” Padmé sighed. “And I could see, in those last months leading up to her birthday, that it wasn’t what she wanted. It was almost making her sick. She once fainted before a Parliamentary session we were supposed to be watching. Not even participating in it, just watching. And I’d always known abdication was a possibility. Thanks to Queen Amidala, every heir has that choice when they come of age at nineteen. Sola couldn’t do the job...but I could. So here I am.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He kissed her lips softly. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said, nodding softly. “And I love you too.”


	15. My Broken Bones

“Home sweet home,” Padmé sighed as they unloaded their suitcases from the car. One of the palace valets moved to take the bags from them, giving Padmé the opportunity to kiss Anakin on the cheek.

“Ugh, let’s go back and never leave Varykino,” Anakin whined and then pouted as he stared at the front door. “It was easy in Varykino.”

“You would’ve missed your friends. And your mother.”

“They could visit. We could Skype. Modern technologies and all,” he drawled with a sigh. “But I see your point, I was just having a very childish moment,” Anakin made a face. 

“Don’t worry, I think it’s sexy,” she laughed, giving him a slightly longer kiss. “I need to go get back to work, unfortunately. Don’t miss me too much?”

“I’ll try,” he smiled and returned her kiss. “I’ll call you after dinner. I have a few things to take care of before going to the RSF and I did promise my mother I would have dinner with her.”

“ _ Eh, bien. Je t’aime. _ ” She stole one last quick kiss before hurrying inside with a wave.

“I love you too,” he chuckled and waited for her to disappear. After he was sure she was out of sight, he turned to one of the aides. “I would like to see the King, please. Tell him it’s Anakin Skywalker.”

“ _ Sì, signore, _ ” the aide nodded, gesturing broadly with his hands. “ _ Seguimi, per favore _ . Follow me.”

Anakin nodded and followed the aide inside the palace. He knew he was not going to cross paths with Padmé, she would be with Parliament and in meetings all day since her father was taking things slow after his surgery. Over the course of their month-long vacation in Varykino, many things have become clear to him. The most important one of all was that he would never be able to give Padmé up. He loved her. He didn’t know what life was like without her anymore. She had become such an important part of his life, such a catalyst for a lot of welcoming changes in who he was, he didn’t see himself without her support, without her love. It was clear to him what he had to do, and, as old-fashioned as it was, he wanted to speak with her father first.

The aide led him through one of the grander halls of the palace, coming to a stop in front of an ornately carved pair of oaken doors, and knocked. “ _ Sua Maestà _ ?”

“ _ Entrare,”  _ King Ruwee’s voice replied from behind the door. The aide pushed open the door and bowed.

“Anakin Skywalker,  _ Maestà.” _

“Welcome back,” Ruwee said, nodding at Anakin without getting up from behind his desk. “Did you enjoy yourself? Do  _ not _ tell me in detail.”

Anakin blushed, deeply, but managed a small, shy smile. “It is a lovely villa, your Majesty. I can see why Padmé loves it so much. I didn’t want to leave,” he chuckled. “I trust your recovery has been satisfying, your majesty?”

“I am feeling much better, yes. Thank you for asking. But I don’t think you’re just here to inquire after my health, are you?”

“No, although I do care about it as well, your Majesty. I know how much Padmé loves you and how she suffered when you were in a coma. I don’t want to see her go through something like that again,” he sighed.

“You’re very kind,” Ruwee said reassuringly. “I’m sorry if I seem terse, I simply dislike being behind schedule. Padmé did her best, but there is always work to be done.”

“I know, I hope I don’t take too much of your time,” Anakin cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, I would like to request your hand’s daughter in marriage. I want to spend my life with Padmé. We make each other happy. We understand each other. I know I can be a good partner for her.”

Ruwee pursed his lips and indicated one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, Anakin.”  _ That does not sound good.  _ Anakin did as he requested, taking one of the seats in front of the King’s desk. “I do not doubt that you love my daughter. Or that you could make her happy. Please understand that,” Ruwee said firmly.

Anakin sighed, looking down at his lap. “But you do not agree with my proposal,” he deduced quietly.

“I think that, even taking into account the six months the two of you were friends, it might be too soon for such things. Especially in the eyes of the public. And I have been briefed by Qui-Gon Jinn regarding the suspicions around your grandfather. Simply put, Anakin, I’m not comfortable with the idea of you two being engaged while he remains a potential threat to my daughter’s safety,” the King explained.

“The plan we have in motion will lure him out and he will be caught and executed for his crimes. It can be a long engagement, your Majesty, we don’t have to run down the aisle tomorrow. I know the threat my grandfather represents, but I can protect Padmé. I will do so with my life if it comes to it,” Anakin justified.

“You wouldn’t just be making a commitment to my daughter, you’d be making a commitment to this country,” Ruwee reminded him gravely. “And I worry that would be something you might come to regret in the future. If you’re willing to consider a long engagement,  then I don’t see any harm in waiting until this danger has passed.”

“You are worried I can’t handle being Prince Consort,” Anakin said, nodding.

“I’ve had the same concerns about every man she’s dated. And,” Ruwee paused, “I suppose on a personal level, I’m not thrilled at the prospect of my little girl growing up and getting married.”

“I will admit, your Majesty, becoming Prince Consort and abdicating the rest of my life is daunting. It is terrifying to know that I will no longer be able to work on my field, that I won’t lead the research I’ve always dreamed of, but all of this became a second plan when I met Padmé.”

“I’m not saying  _ no, _ Anakin, I’m saying  _ not now _ ,” Ruwee corrected. “You’re a good young man, I think you could make a fine consort for Padmé when the time is right, but I don’t believe this is that time.”

“I understand,” Anakin’s smile was weak and he stood. “I will let you get back to work, your Majesty. Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course. Anakin. Thank you for speaking with me.”

* * *

“Oh, Ani, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he mumbled, pushing the food around his plate. “It was awful, Mum, he didn’t even think twice about what I was requesting.”

“Ani, I think he was right,” Shmi sighed. “You two  _ are _ very young. Emotions have been running high and things are intense right now.”

“ _ We  _ are very young or  _ I  _ am?” Anakin questioned. “I know she is older than me, Mum, but I don’t think it changes how I feel about her and how I know I want to be with her. Exactly because things are intense, that I prefer to live my life, chasing what I want. How can that be wrong?”

“I meant both of you. Padmé’s last serious boyfriend was a while ago, but it lasted for a long time. Proposing to her so early in your time as a couple might unnerve her,” Shmi pointed out gently.

“It’s just… we were on Varykino and things were great, our relationship was amazing, I was finally able to tell her I loved her. We spoke about weddings and… I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make her dreams come true.”

“Ani, that’s very sweet, but are you sure you’re not just still in the afterglow of a vacation?”

He stabbed a vegetable more aggressively than intended. “Perhaps.”

“Give it a week and see if you feel the same way then,” his mother advised. “About marriage, I mean, not loving Padmé.”

“You know me probably better than I know myself, Mum, do you think I can be Prince Consort? That I have the personality to do so?”

“I’ve known you your whole life, Ani. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that when you decide you want to do something, you do it.”

Anakin sighed. “I want to be with her, but I’m afraid of being Prince Consort. I’m afraid I will let her down and that someday, it will drive a wedge between us. My biggest fear is failing her expectations, I… I always wanted to leave my mark on the world, you know I did. I know that as Prince Consort, I can have a voice and make a change, but...” he dropped his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe you and her father are right. It’s… it’s too soon,” he pushed the plate away.

“Darling, don’t tear yourself to pieces over this,” Shmi hurried to reassure him. “I’m sure that when the time is right, and you do propose to her, she’ll say yes in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t even have a ring,” he frowned. “I honestly don’t know what I was thinking, I’m not even going to tell her this. It’s so embarrassing!”

“You’re young and in love, it’s normal,” Shmi reminded him, reaching out to brush back his hair. “Why don’t you finish your dinner and then get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

* * *

“Padmé?” Sola knocked on the door of her sister’s bedroom. “Padmé, are you awake?”

“Yes,” Padmé mumbled nervously as she stared at her calendar and the red dot marking the date. “I’ll, um, I’ll be out in a moment, you can tell everyone to start breakfast without me.” It couldn’t be possible. It absolutely should not be possible. This couldn’t be happening, it would destroy her relationship with Anakin. “Actually, um, can you come in here? I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“Over what?” Sola opened the door and stepped into the room, looking at her sister worriedly. “What’ve you got there?”

“My period’s late,” Padmé mumbled. “And I’m worried—”

“That you might be pregnant?”

“I  _ shouldn’t _ be. I’m on my birth control pills,  _ and _ Anakin and I have taken additional precautions!” Padmé complained. “We should be safe, right?”

“Nothing is one hundred percent effective, Padmé,” Sola said apologetically. “It should be, but unfortunately it isn’t. It takes  _ one  _ time for you to miss a pill or Anakin to forget a condom, and that’s enough. But,” she squeezed her sister’s shoulder in reassurance, “do a pregnancy test first. No need to suffer in anticipation.”

“I don’t suppose you have one?” Padmé asked dryly.

“Actually, I might have one,” Sola smiled. “Darred and I, and please don’t tell our parents, are trying for another child and I always carry a test with me. Give me one second and I’ll bring it right back to you,” she kissed her sister’s cheek and hurried out.

Padmé started pacing nervously around her room. A baby would be the worst possible thing to happen right now, with Palpatine still breathing down their necks and their relationship still so new. She fidgeted with her necklace, trying to think of something else,  _ anything _ besides babies.

Cute little babies with chubby cheeks and button noses and Anakin’s eyes.

_ Merde.  _ That was the worst possible line of thinking.

“I’ve got it,” her sister returned, entering the room without knocking. She handed Padmé a small, pink toiletries bag. “Here you go. I didn’t want to walk around the palace, showcasing the package. You know how to do it, right? Pee on the stick, wait 3 minutes and then it will tell you ‘Pregnant’ with a smiley face or ‘Not Pregnant’ with a sad little face.”

“ _ Yes,  _ Sola, I know how to use a pregnancy test.” Padmé rolled her eyes and took the bag from her sister. “Can you tell Maman and Papa that I’ll be a little late for breakfast?”

“Don’t you want me to stay with you?” Sola questioned.

“You  _ want _ to spend three minutes watching me panic and run through every disaster scenario in my mind?”

“What are big sisters for?” she smiled. “I’m here for you. If you want to talk about this, let’s talk about this and you’ll see just how slow three minutes go,” Sola chuckled. “Trust me, I already went through this two times, it’s horrible. But I had Darred holding my hand. Since you don’t have Anakin, I won’t leave you alone.”

Padmé grimaced slightly and slipped into her bathroom to take the test, the worry already setting in. She could practically see the tabloid headlines in all their crass glory. With the deed done, she washed her hands and returned to her sister. “Start the clock and pray I’m wrong. Because I can’t do this now, Sola, I can’t.”

Sola started the countdown on her phone and sighed. “Why is that, Padmé? Is it because of Anakin or because of Father? Or because of the press?”

“All of it! I don’t want to put this kind of pressure on Anakin, and I know the press will eviscerate both of us for this, I don’t want Papa being put in the position of having to deal with the scandal, and I just don’t know if I’m ready to be a mother, period.”

“First, breathe. I haven’t known Anakin for long, Padmé, but I don’t think he will freak out the way you believe. It will be a shock, but he’ll be by your side, I am sure—”

“He’s  _ twenty-one. _ He didn’t grow up with this like we did. It’s too much to ask of him so soon.”

“He loves you,” Sola whispered. “He wants to be with you.”

“It’s a long jump from wanting to be with me to wanting to have babies with me. Ugh, has it been three minutes yet?”

“Not even one,” Sola quipped. “Forget the time. Padmé, you need to trust how he feels. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to just  _ leave.  _ I know the press is going to be scary, but it will eventually pass. We can manage. We can try to control them. This looks like the end of the world, but it’s not.”

“Maybe I can avoid this ever becoming an issue.” Padmé tapped the test against her palm nervously. “I mean, it’d be early enough, and we certainly have the resources, Anakin wouldn’t even have to know—”

“You will never forgive yourself,” Sola interrupted. “I know you. This will eat at you until you confess, and when you do,  _ then  _ you can be worried about Anakin leaving. It might be an insignificant little thing that weighs close to nothing, but it’s  _ your  _ baby.”

“ _ If _ I’m pregnant, it’s not exactly a baby yet.”

“That’s your desperation speaking, Padmé, you can’t be serious about this.”

“There are still people out there trying to kill me, and my being pregnant would just be one more reason for them to follow through!”

Sola sighed. “I am against it, but it’s your body and it’s your decision. I just ask you to think carefully before you do anything.” The phone vibrated, indicating that the three minutes were up, and Padmé inhaled nervously, turning over the test to look at the window.

Her shoulders slumped forward as she sighed in relief. “It’s negative.”

“Thank God,” Sola breathed. “I hated hearing you speak like that, Padmé.”

“You think I liked it? This is about more than just me, Sola, and you know it. What I want and what Naboo needs are two completely different things.” Padmé broke the test in half and dropped it in her wastebasket.

“Well, it’s no use thinking about that now. It’s negative. It’s over. It was a scare. But it should make you think about where you see this relationship with your Englishman going. Right now, you are going through the motions of catching Palpatine, you are wrapped up in each other and in this plan. But what happens after Palpatine is brought down?” Sola questioned. “You need to start thinking long-term, little sister.”

“Don’t talk to me about thinking long-term, you have no idea how much work I do thinking about the long-term course of things.” Padmé huffed. “Let’s just go get breakfast,  _ please. _ ”

“Yes, and let’s never speak of this  _ again _ .” Sola groaned and turned on her heel, opening the door. “Let’s hope next time you do this, we’re speaking about baby names and nursery colors.”

“The next time I do this,  _ you _ won’t be privy to it, because I will preferably doing it with my husband.”

“Your very handsome, very British husband,” Sola quipped.

“You’ve made it very clear that you find my boyfriend attractive, sister dear, and it’s getting a little unnerving. Please, control yourself.”

“I’m married, but I still have eyes and can enjoy the view once in a while,” her sister chuckled. “To keep you on your toes, little sister. If I notice, others do as well. You should have seen the ogling at your birthday party.”

“You think I didn’t? I’m sure there are plenty of teenage girls across Naboo who have scrapbooks of his appearances in the tabloids by this point,” Padmé groaned as they reached the family dining room. “Good morning, Maman. Papa.”

“Good morning, girls,” Jobal greeted as she sipped her tea. “You were late this morning. Is everything alright?”

“Just a little stressed.” Padmé took her seat and selected a croque madame from the spread at the center of the table. “After being away so long, I overextended myself a little. Sola was just looking after me.”

“I would think your boyfriend would like to do that himself?” Jobal asked teasingly while Ruwee made a face as he ate his toast. “Where is Anakin? You should invite him to have dinner with us soon, Padmé, now the family is all together. Invite his mother as well.”

“Anakin’s still living with Qui-Gon, Maman, we agreed there should be some boundaries this early in our relationship.” Padmé glanced at Ruwee. “Papa, what is it?”

“No father likes to admit their baby girl is in a grown-up relationship,” he answered. “Have you spoke with him since you returned yesterday?”

“No, not yet.”

Ruwee looked thoughtful but said nothing. “Well, you should follow your mother’s advice and invite him and his mother over so we can all spend time with each other in a more informal setting. If you’re serious about him, that is, sweetheart.”

“Papa, I’ve only been dating him for a month,” Padmé chided. “And you were in a coma for most of that time. There’s hardly a rush.”

“Too soon then,” he nodded, “As I suspected,” he added under his breath as he sipped his coffee.

“Papa, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Not about Anakin, but about matters of state.”

“Work over breakfast, dear?” Jobal sighed.

“Dear, let her speak. We do have a lot to discuss,” Ruwee said, patting his wife’s hand. “Go on, Padmé, what is it?”

“I think we should propose a new amendment to the Constitution, one that would make the Monarchy a permanently elected position. Let the people choose a person, not a family to lead them,” Padmé said, not mincing words. “I think it could be beneficial to our current situation. And for generations to come.”

The remaining members of her family stopped what they were doing to look at her and then shared glances among themselves. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sola pointed out. “Modern.”

“Give the entire power of decision, to the Parliament?” Jobal questioned while Ruwee looked very thoughtful.

“No, nothing that extreme—”

“Padmé, while I do like your initiative and proactivity, we are a country of traditions and the monarchy has been the responsibility of a bloodline, for centuries and Naboo has prospered so far. We are not America, where any clown can be elected to rule over a country.”

“America has a system of checks and balances, Papa, and I would hardly call President Valorum a clown. But the reality is that our current system—”

“Works,” Ruwee interrupted. “Just because Sheev Palpatine has gotten greedy, it does not mean our system is failing. We have one of the best lifestyles in Europe. Our children have access to the finest education and it’s been years since the last financial crisis. We are a peaceful country, a monarchy that works. Why fix something that isn’t broken?”

“The fact that it’s gotten this far makes it clear that it either is broken already or is about to break,” Padmé argued.

“Is this your way of evading the crown?” Ruwee asked directly. “Of not being appointed the next Queen? Would you prefer the crown to be given to a person without the experience and education and that just has a pretty face and good ideals? Opening the monarchy for everyone to apply for is a ridiculous notion, our country would suffer from such imbalance.”

“Of course not! This is about trying to make Naboo better for everyone,” Padmé protested hotly. “I have a fully proposal drafted and ready for submission, why can’t we at least suggest it as a possibility?”

“It sounds to me as you are looking for a way not to be tied to your rightful place on the throne,” Ruwee said gruffly. “I can read the proposal. I can even present it to Parliament. Maybe the Chancellor will love it so much, he can even apply himself to take the crown from your burdened shoulders,” he stood. “I will wait for the proposal in my office,” he kissed his wife’s forehead and left the family dining room.

Padmé huffed and got up to follow him. “That’s just it, Father. This proposal doesn’t necessarily have to be put into law to achieve some good. It could well draw the Chancellor out enough to put an end to this once and for all.”

“You are saying that this proposal is not to be taken seriously, then? It’s just a ruse to draw out the Chancellor?”

“It could be,” Padmé said noncommittally. “I’m committed to being Queen, Papa. Can’t you trust me?”

“I used to think so, but this idea has left me with doubts,” Ruwee sighed. “It was already hard enough when your sister abdicated, now you come with this  _ idea  _ to make the monarchy available to anyone. We might as well be giving plastic crowns to the passing tourists in the Palace. For generations, this family has carried this monarchy and this country, I will not be the one to change it.”

“Do you actually want to spend time with Anakin, or is it just so that you can scare him away from me?” Padmé accused.

“If I can scare him away, does he even deserve you?” He raised his eyebrows. “He seems like a good man. A man that loves you. I would like to get to know him better.” Padmé narrowed her eyes but sighed. 

“I’ll go see about getting you your copy of my proposal.”

* * *

 

“They’re taunting me!” Sheev Palpatine snarled, pacing his office.

Dooku raised one eyebrow calmly. "You think this an elaborate plan to elicit a reaction?" 

“Oh, no, I think our little Princess is genuine in her intentions. But I think her father is indulging her, and using that to rub his power in my face.” Palpatine ran his fingers over the silver letter opener. “Not that it’d ever pass, not while I’m around. What has Qui-Gon said to you, if anything? The boy’s been very cagey about his relationship with the Princess.”

"You seem to believe my beloved son calls me every day before bed," Dooku drawled out sarcastically. "What I understood is that your grandson is very serious about the Princess. Marriage serious. My agent in the Palace said he had a meeting with the King yesterday after he returned from his vacation with her."

“You really think so?” Palpatine’s eyes glimmered savagely. “I knew the Princess had a way of charming men, but I didn’t think he would take my advice to heart so quickly.”

"He seems to be like Lucien. When he falls, he falls hard," Dooku pointed out. "On another serious subject, brother dear, we need to speak about Jango Fett."

“I will pay the incompetent fool when he actually follows through on his orders,” Palpatine snapped. “He’s failed me twice already.”

"He is threatening to retaliate if we do not pay him. If he dares to speak with anyone of what he is doing in your name, it will be your undoing. Maybe you should speak with him, come to an agreement so he does not lead us to disgrace," he warned. 

“We never did anything that could definitively prove our connection to him, did we?” Palpatine asked sharply. “No one will believe a mercenary like Jango Fett over the Chancellor of Naboo. But if you’re so worried about it, Dooku,  _ you _ deal with him.”

“Sheev, I am serious. You have come so far, do not let your pride topple you now.”

“Jango Fett will not see his payment until he kills the Princess of Theed. I dare him to defy me.”

* * *

“Is this compensation for not being the Uncle who put me in a sugar rush when I was younger?” Anakin quipped as he and Qui-Gon left one of the best bakeries in Naboo, eating a cronut. “I didn’t even  _ know  _ they made these here. They’re sinful.”

“If you think I have an ulterior motive for spending time with you, then the politicians have already gotten to you,” Qui-Gon said mournfully. “Can I not simply be fond of you, Anakin?”

“You can, I’m just teasing,” Anakin chuckled, mouth full of the pastry. “To be honest, I  _ was  _ needing the distraction.”

“Trouble with your Princess?”

“No… for the past couple of days, we don’t have the time to even be together, let alone have problems,” he sighed. “I did something dumb and I still feel embarrassed and restless.”

“Whatever it was, it can’t be as bad as your father stealing a military jet to take a girl for a joyride at the age of fifteen.”

“Now  _ those  _ are the kind of stories I wanted to know,” Anakin snickered. “That is how you impress a girl. Go big or go home. I knew I got my charm from somewhere.”

“Charm is one way to put it,” Qui-Gon agreed. “What else do you want to hear about him?”

“What would you like  _ me  _ to know? I’ve heard more about him for the past couple of weeks than I did my entire life. It’s… difficult when you think about it. You want to know everything, but you don’t even know what to ask, I mean… why did he became a pilot? He was in love with my mother, but did he plan on proposing? Did he ever talked about becoming a father?” Anakin shrugged and dug into the bag for a second cronut. “I wish I could have been able to meet him.”

“He loved  _ going _ places,” Qui-Gon answered. “Horseback, bicycles, motorcycles, cars, planes, if it meant he was going somewhere fast, Luc wanted to learn how to do it. He probably would have applied to be an astronaut if your grandfather hadn’t put his foot down. As for your mother, well... ”

“Yes?” Anakin prompted curiously.

“I never saw him want anything as much as he wanted a life with her. The last time I spoke with him before he died, he was talking about how he planned on taking her surname, and how they were discussing buying a bigger home, and he asked me to bring him something once things had calmed down here in Naboo.”

“What did he ask?”

“Well, apparently, he and your grandfather had such a falling out over your mother, that your father left without picking up the ring he’d commissioned from the family jeweler.”

“He bought her a ring?” Anakin asked in shock. “Mum never mentioned it. Did she know?”

“He died about a week after that call, and I never heard from her in twenty-one years. Believe me, Anakin, if I’d known, I would’ve flown out with the damn thing myself, but as it was, it’s been sitting in my safe for two decades.”

“She would like to know,” he pointed out softly. “That he commissioned a unique ring for her. You should show her one of these days, Qui-Gon, it would make her happy. I know she misses him,” he sighed. “I can’t imagine what she suffered. I… I miss him and I never knew him. Imagine knowing him and truly loving him, and having him disappear. Die in minutes. In an accident, doing what he loved.”

“When we get home, remind me, and I’ll get it out of the safe in a heartbeat.”

“Will do!” Anakin beamed. Qui-Gon stopped walking, his own bakery bag slipping from his hands.

“Anakin, look—”

Anakin never heard the last word as a gunshot rang out. His ears were ringing and at first, he didn’t feel pain. He felt a tightness that he couldn’t locate the source. Was it his arm?  _ No.  _ His chest?  _ Maybe.  _ Or was it his shoulder?  _ I don’t know.  _ He looked down and saw his light blue shirt soaking with blood. His blood. The gunshot had been for him. To him. He gasped as the sudden, severe pain kicked in and he thought he was falling backward? Was he standing in the first place? He was getting dizzy and Qui-Gon’s voice was very far away as were screams. All around him, people were screaming but he couldn’t make a sound. His vision was closing in, Qui-Gon’s desperate face was the last thing he saw before his world went black.


	16. I'll Never Let You Go

Padmé sat next to Shmi, letting her boyfriend’s mother hold her hands so tightly she was fairly certain a finger or two might have been broken. But she couldn’t blame Shmi, not when Anakin was currently in intensive surgery, fighting for his life. “He’ll be alright,” she whispered.

“He has to,” Shmi whispered as she sniffed and with a tissue, dabbed the tears in the corner of her eyes. “He has to,” she repeated. “I don’t know what I will do if he is not.”

“Nor do I,” Padmé admitted. The waiting room doors flew open as the Chancellor rushed in, and Padmé narrowed her eyes. Shmi stiffened at her side, watching her son’s grandfather enter.

“What does  _ he  _ want?” Shmi hissed, her tears forgotten. She was long past grieving, she was  _ angry. _

“Is he alright?” Palpatine asked Padmé, looking every inch the concerned grandparent.  “Your Highness?”

“Don’t act like you actually care,” Padmé snapped at him openly. “Not when this is your fault.”

“My fault?” He looked genuinely scandalized. “Your Highness, I am sure you are in distress, but I assure you that I had nothing to do with this vile attack on my grandson,” he scowled. “I will forgive your direct offense and I will ask again, is he alright?”

“No, he’s not alright,” Shmi seethed. “He has been shot. He is in surgery. The doctors say it’s a miracle he’s alive and that the bullet did not hit his heart.”

“Thank God for that.”

“I never thought to hear the devil thanking god,” Padmé muttered under her breath. “This is your fault, as surely as anything else that has caused me pain these last six months.”

“That is an outrage,” Palpatine hissed, blue eyes turning icy. “I have been nothing but supportive, your Highness, and I can assure you my conscience is clean.”

“Liar!” she shouted, trying to launch herself at him so she could claw at his face with her nails. Sabé and Eirtaé moved like lightning, catching her by the waist and holding her back. “You’re a liar and a schemer and a monster!”

“Please excuse her, Lord Chancellor, she’s in distress,” Sabé said politely. “And not thinking clearly.”

“That behavior is inexcusable coming from someone in her position and her accusations are laughable, but they still offend my character and honor,” Palpatine said coldly. “Do control her. Before she makes a scene in front of the press that has camped outside.”

“You should go, Sheev,” Shmi declared, placing a kind hand on Padmé’s shoulder. “All of our emotions are running high as is our concern for Anakin.”

“I am concerned for my grandson as well.”

“I’m sure you are,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “But you are not welcome in this waiting room. I will be the one to personally kick you out if you don’t leave. I will have someone keep you updated on Anakin’s status, but for now, do leave us alone.”

“Do they at least know who attacked him?” Palpatine asked.

“Qui-Gon managed to get a good look at his attacker and is in pursuit with backup,” Shmi explained.

“And?” The elderly man prompted. 

“We’re looking for Jango Fett,” Sabé answered with a gleam in her eyes. “Former New Zealand Defence Force agent, now a freelance mercenary. Eyewitnesses to the attack are saying that he said, ‘one way or another, you pay,’ before pulling the trigger. Though we don’t know what that means yet.”

Palpatine licked his dry lips and if anyone saw the twitch in his jaw or the sudden clenching of his fists, no one spoke a word. “I see. Since I am clearly not welcome here, I will leave you to your hysterics,” he threw a look at Padmé. “I will be at my house, please contact me when my grandson is out of surgery.” Turning on his heel, he left.

Shmi finally relaxed and released the breath she had been holding. “I know he has something to do with Ani’s attack.”

“We’re working with the theory that Fett was the assassin behind both the recent attacks on members of the Royal Family, on Palpatine’s orders,” Eirtaé explained. “And that he’s not been compensated for his failed attempts. Hence the attack on Anakin.”

“I hope Qui-Gon gets Fett,” Shmi sighed, sitting back down. “So we can put this nightmare behind us and move on with our lives, without that man.”

“Bastard,” Padmé muttered.

“I know, darling, he always was,” Shmi rubbed her arm in a comforting gesture. “I understand your frustration with him, but you can’t put yourself at risk like that.”

“He needed to be held accountable,” Padmé insisted, pulling away from her as tears began to run down her cheeks. “This is his fault.”

“I know, but it won’t be long before justice is done,” she replied softly. “All we need to focus on right now is Anakin and his health, alright?”

Eirtaé took out her phone, checking a newly arrived message. “If you’d prefer, Princess, Qui-Gon has just apprehended Mr. Fett. You could watch the interrogation.”

“Or I could do it,” Padmé seethed venomously.

“I’ll stay here and I’ll let you know Anakin’s status as soon as I’m aware,” Shmi said. “I trust you to get the truth out of that bandit,” she squeezed Padmé’s hand in reassurance. “End this nightmare once and for all.”

“I can only hope to do just that.”

 

* * *

“Absolutely not.”

“He is handcuffed to the table, disarmed, and the room is secure. I can do this,” Padmé insisted. “I read the full file on my way over, I know what can be done to convince him. Let me do this.”

"I know you are upset about what happened to Anakin, Padmé, but letting you alone with a known assassin is madness!" Qui-Gon protested. 

“I know what I’m doing.”

"I can't put you in jeopardy. Your father would never allow it. I could lose my job and so could your Shadow," he glared at Sabé over Padmé’s shoulder. 

“He’s restrained, and the Princess is more than capable of negotiating,” Sabé said with a shrug. “Besides, she needs to take out her frustrations on someone other than the Chancellor.”

“You didn’t.”

“He thought I was hysterical.”

"Padmé, he might be suspicious now. I understand you wanted someone to blame but really, attacking the Chancellor?" Qui-Gon sighed. 

“This  _ is _ his fault! It’s his fault Anakin was outed as his grandson, if that weren’t public knowledge, Fett wouldn’t have gone after Anakin!”

"You should let her go inside." Sabé pointed out. 

"I better not regret this."

“You won’t.” Padmé calmly tucked back her hair and took the file from Qui-Gon’s hand before heading into the interrogation room. “You know who I am. Let’s not stand on ceremony.”

“I agree,” Jango replied in a heartbeat, smug even in his current position. “How’s the boyfriend, sweetheart? Still alive?”

“I’m much more interested in talking about Boba right now,” she answered, her face masterfully calm. “That  _ is _ the name of your son, yes? Eight years old, his mother passed away three years ago?”

Jango didn’t immediately reply and the only sign he had reacted to her words, was a twitch in the muscle of his jaw. “What happened to your Chief of Security? Is the great Qui-Gon Jinn losing his touch and needs a woman to replace him? Pity. I thought about shooting them both, really, but your boyfriend was a much more appealing target.”

“Tell me, Jango, what does the foster care system look like in New Zealand?”

“How low do you have to sink, to use an eight-year-old, innocent child against me?” Jango hissed, hands turning into fists.

“I’m not the one who’s decided to make killing my profession,” Padmé replied serenely. “Perhaps these are things you should have considered before taking this job from your employer, because, mark my words, Jango, if Anakin dies, the only way your son will ever see you again will be during the visiting hours at your maximum-security prison.”

“If he hadn’t stepped in front of you the first time, he wouldn’t be at risk now,” Jango growled, anger consuming him at her words. The image of never being able to be with his son, too desperate to bear. He had gotten careless with his attempt on the Skywalker boy, but Palpatine needed to know he was not joking around. “All things considered, isn’t it really  _ your  _ fault he’s a target to be put down?”

“Or your employer’s. ‘One way or another, you pay?’” she quoted him. “That is what you said right before you shot Anakin, wasn’t it? Tell me who hired you to kill me in the first place, and maybe we can arrange a more lenient plea bargain. Perhaps house arrest.”

Jango scoffed. “I don’t trust politicians. You speak a lot of garbage and don’t do a third of what you promise. Why should you be any different?”

“Because what other option do you have?” Padmé leaned back in the chair, smiling sweetly. “I don’t see anyone coming to help you, Jango. Attempting to kill the heir to the throne is enough to get you a life sentence, but you nearly killed the current monarchs too. That’ll have people calling for your execution. I’m the best hope you have of getting out of your current situation with some level of comfort.”

“I’ll tell you everything I know, but my son stays with me and we can leave for New Zealand with a vow to never return to Naboo,” he argued. “I am to be protected from my… employer.”

“I’ll arrange for holding at the New Zealand Embassy for the both of you until your employer is apprehended, tried, and sentenced,” she countered. “ _ Then _ you return to New Zealand.”

Jango thought for a long moment but he knew if he were to refuse the Princess, the death penalty was not out of the table. Thinking about Boba, alone and in a system that hurt kids more than it helped them, made him sigh and slouch in his seat. “Sheev Palpatine. He was the one who hired me to kill you.”

“And my parents?” she prompted.

“They were not supposed to be hurt. You were always the target, but somehow, you’ve always eluded me. It was either that wretched boyfriend of yours or that you moved out of range in the split second I pulled the trigger and your parents were caught in the blast!” He said frustratedly.

“And you shot Anakin because the Chancellor refused to pay you,” Padmé prompted. “Do I have that part right?”

The assassin nodded. “Yes. He didn’t believe me when I said I would retaliate. I wanted to prove I was not to be toyed with.”

“Thank you, Jango, you’ve been very helpful.” Padmé stood, smiling genuinely now. “I have no further questions.”

“You need to be careful with him,” Jango warned, scowling. “He’s very  _ motivated  _ about seeing his plan through.”

Pausing at the door, she turned and looked back at him. “That’s the one thing he and I have in common.”

 

* * *

_ “Ani?” _

_ “He’s exhausted, don’t rush him. _ ”

Anakin felt sore. Tired. His mouth was achingly dry but the worst was the fact that he could barely move his body. It was dead weight and he wanted to do something but was unable to. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. The last he remembered was feeling a sharp pain in his upper body. He had been shot. A small groan left his lips as he made a face. Yes, he remembers the pain, he also feels the dull ache of the wound. What had happened to him?

“ _ Mon cher, _ can you hear me?” Padmé’s voice broke through the fuzziness of his mind.

He nodded his head, at least he tried. He didn’t even know if his head  _ had  _ moved, but he had, right? His brain seemed a bit disconnected.

“Yes…” he rasped out.

“I’m here too, darling.” There was his mother’s voice. “You’re going to be alright, you were in surgery all night, but you’re going to be fine now.”

Trying to open his eyes, he could barely keep them open as the light hurt his sight. He shut them and groaned again, feeling uncomfortably stiff.

“Tired…” he mumbled with a sigh.

“That’d be the anesthesia,” Padmé pointed out, touching his cheek. “They were fixing you up all night.”

“Hmm… I need water…” he coughed and winced as his muscles seemed to complain.

Shmi reached over and held a cup with a straw to his lips. “There you go.”

Anakin drank almost the entire cup and felt his throat much better. “Thank you,” he whispered and tried to open his eyes again, blinking furiously. “It’s so  _ bright. _ ”

Padmé reached over to a light switch, lowering their levels slowly. “Is that better?”

“Yes, much better,” he sighed in relief as he was able to hold his eyes open for longer. “I’m sorry, I know we had dinner plans,” somehow, he managed a smile.

“You can make them up to me later,” she promised, returning his smile with a brilliant one of her own. “What matters now is that you’re alive.”

He snorted. “Like either of you could get rid of me so easily.” Padmé rolled her eyes and kissed him on the forehead.

“Ani,” Shmi interrupted. “I’m going to make a quick trip home and get some of your things so that this room doesn’t feel as dreary. Would you like me to get anything specific?”

“I can’t remember anything, Mum, anything that makes this feel like I’m not on my deathbed, please,” he smiled at her.

“I think I can manage that.” She hugged him gently before pushing back her chair and leaving. Padmé moved her hands down to take one of Anakin’s, raising it to her lips and kissing it.

“We caught him. The man who shot you, the man who’s been trying to kill me. They’re one and the same.”

“So, it’s over?” He blinked. “Thank God,” a breath of relief escaped him.

“It’s not quite over,” she corrected softly. “But we did get a confession too. Qui-Gon is with my parents right now, deciding how to arrest your grandfather and be sure we’re not leaving any loose ends.”

“Why did he come after me?” Anakin frowned. “I don’t believe my grandfather would have  _ me  _ killed, I think. Or I hope.”

“No, nothing like that. Apparently, he didn’t want to pay for a botched job, so Jango Fett decided he’d pay with your life.”

“Charming,” he drawled out.

“It’s going to be behind us now,” she promised. “Palpatine will be arrested, tried, and sentenced. And we’ll be free.”

“That’s good. That’s really, really good,” Anakin nodded, squeezing her hand. “I am glad this nightmare is over, that we can move on with our lives.”

“What do you want that to be?” she asked, pulling one hand free to run her fingers through her hair. “You don’t have to answer now, we have plenty of time to figure it out. But… tell me what you imagine. The best possible outcome.”

“Hmm,” he let himself enjoy her touch as he thought about it. It was a heavy question, even if innocently asked. It was the ‘where are we taking this relationship’ talk, disguised and he had just woken up from surgery. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but he also felt the need to be honest, precisely because of how the previous day had gone. He had nearly died. It was impossible not to think about your life. “Honestly, I want to stay and be with you. I love you and I don’t want to give up on this feeling. It has brought me more happiness than I ever could imagine.”

“You say as you’ve just been shot,” she countered playfully.

“It wasn’t because of you or our relationship, was it now?” He retorted with a chuckle.

“No, I guess not,” she admitted. “I think we’re in agreement. There isn’t anything I want more than to be with you.”

“I can’t promise I will always handle the public life well, I might freak out once or twice, maybe more, but I don’t want to hide that we are together, or that I love you. I know you never released a statement because of how I felt about being in public, but I’ll learn to deal with it. I’m not going to be perfect, but all I ask is that you’re patient with me. I love you and I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”

“I love you too. So much.” She leaned her head against him with a happy little sigh. “And I’ll help you through the madness. Without your grandfather pulling the strings with the press, things can calm down. We can handle anything, as long as we’re together.”

“True,” he beamed at her.

“But I think a lot of that can wait until after you’ve had time to rest and recover. Agreed?”

“Agreed. Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Anakin smiled at her and raised a hand to touch her cheek gently. Yes, he could definitely see himself spending the rest of his life beside this woman.


	17. All I Want

Palpatine was calm. Almost too calm. It didn’t sit right with Qui-Gon. It had been a very thorough sting operation, arresting not only the Chancellor, but his aides and Dooku as well, and yet the old man sat serenely in his holding cell as if nothing were wrong. “I don’t like this, Your Majesty,” he admitted to the King. “I don’t know that it’s wise to let him go to trial.”

“He believes he can never be accused, that the evidence will never hold in trial and that he has people in his pockets,” Ruwee sighed with a frown. “Before we take him to trial, Qui-Gon, we need to discover if this is the case. If he is bribing people in court. Turn his house upside down. Just find any back-up plan he might have left behind.”

“I have RSF agents doing that at this moment, Your Majesty. But the fact that he’s so calm has me worried. He knows he’s being charged with treason.”

“He is an excellent politician, Qui-Gon, you will never see him lose his posture,” Ruwee pointed out. “Maybe if you interrogated him?”

“I don’t know how successful I’ll be at getting him to confess. He has every reason to want this to go to trial, where he can make a spectacle of this.”

“Or I can speak with the bastard myself,” Ruwee said.

“If that’s what you want, your Majesty, I can’t exactly stop you. And your daughter did get the first confession we needed.”

“Like daughter, like father, let’s hope,” the King said as he made his way to the holding cell. Qui-Gon stood, watching through the mirrored glass nervously.

“Ruwee, thank goodness. Surely we can discuss this reasonably, rather than making a scene.”

“Oh, who’s making a scene?” Ruwee asked taking the seat in front of the Chancellor. “Your assassin, the one you hired to kill my daughter and that nearly killed your grandson, confessed. It’s not a scene, it’s a very easy case. You have almost cost me my youngest daughter and you have nearly successfully killed me and my wife.”

“Lies and conspiracy. We are old, dear friends, I would never think to harm you, or the Princess. She is as dear to me as if she were from my own family.”

The King raised one eyebrow. “Then we won’t find anything linking you to Jango Fett? Security footage? Initial payment? Recorded conversations he might have in his possession? You can really guarantee that to me,  _ dear friend _ ?”

“I don’t know which offends me more, the idea you think I would harm your family, or that you believe I would do it so carelessly. I have done nothing wrong, and you will see that when this pointless investigation concludes.” Qui-Gon took in a seething breath.

“Nothing with your brother either? Or any of your associates?” Ruwee prompted. “No reporters you might have hired to expose personal information about my daughter and your grandson? Do you think your brother is loyal enough that he won’t try to save his own skin if it means giving you up?”

There was a crack in Sheev’s perfectly collected appearance as he didn’t reply to the provocation.

“You are smart to be afraid,” Ruwee smirked and stood. “This is not going to go well for you,  _ old friend _ . I hope prison is to your liking.”

“You’re grasping at conspiracies.”

"We'll see that, when your brother saves himself by throwing you to the wolves," Ruwee shrugged, unimpressed. "After all, we know how to make an irresistible deal. I'll see you at your trial."

Leaving the holding cell, he saw Qui-Gon rubbing a hand across his face.

"My father is being interrogated at the moment. I let Sabé handle it and she's putting all her training into action. We'll have a confession from him, soon. The recordings Jango spoke about have been recovered and we're working on getting every security footage that might be incriminating, thanks to Anakin’s AI program," Qui-Gon said. 

“He’s a very intelligent young man,” Ruwee mused. “The tenderness of his youth aside, he has potential. And hopefully, with all this sorted out, Padmé will be less interested in upending the foundations of our government.”

"Your daughter has fixed ideas. She might try to pull this one through the Parliament."

“She has a habit of letting her passion override her reason, and I intend to do everything in my power to hold out on this issue until she comes to her senses  _ before _ the damage done is irreparable.”

"Maybe you should speak to her before something more serious happens. We all know the trial is going to take a few weeks and that subject should be behind everyone by then," Qui-Gon pointed out.

“She’ll object to me rushing the process,” Ruwee grumbled. “And if she does, I suppose I will simply have to remind her which of us wears the crown.”

"I don't want to be there for  _ that _ fight," he shook his head. 

“Then don’t be.”

"I'll warn you as soon as we have something from Dooku. Go home, Your Majesty, be with your family. You are all safe now." 

“Qui-Gon…” Ruwee sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

"I know the family I had, Your Majesty. It will never be easy, but it helps that I am not blood-related and that I stepped away a long time ago. Anakin will have a hard time. Like Luc once did. But he'll be fine." 

“Do you think he could stand by her side? Be an effective Consort?”

"Anakin is capable of anything he puts his mind to. He's dedicated to her. Loves her deeply. That's the first step. He just needs help through the rest of the process," Qui-Gon said. 

“Hmm.” Ruwee inclined his head. “I suppose no harm would come from arranging some education for him outside of his duties to the RSF.”

* * *

“You look like you had a good day,” Padmé remarked dryly.

Anakin just scowled and kept his eyes on the tablet that he held with too much strength. “Fantastic,” he replied in the same tone. “I’ve learned  _ many  _ things today like one, I am a disaster when it comes to royal protocols; two, who needs more than one fork to eat, really, how is that even necessary? And three, the expert hates me and I despise her, she’s like a mean grandma,” he ranted, throwing the tablet on the table and leaning back in his chair.

He had been released from the hospital six weeks ago and his recovery was a success. The only thing that stayed, was a small scar on his shoulder. Since he’d decided to stay in Naboo with Padmé, he’d known there would be responsibilities that he would have in the future and that it would be better to be prepared as soon as possible. That’s why he accepted the King’s proposal on having a ‘royal’ education in his free time, since Anakin insisted on continuing his work with RSF until it was absolutely mandatory that he should leave.

However, _lessons_ __ always put him in a miserable mood. Anyone would be too if they were scolded for two hours straight.

What he forgot to tell Padmé was that he actually snapped at the educator they had found for him and that she might quit.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t get Jocasta for you,” she sighed, moving over to rub at his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks and knots in his muscles. “She was the one who taught me when I was younger.”

“I’m just… tired,” Anakin sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It was my recovery, having to deal with the Chancellor in prison and the nationwide shock from it, my Mum is thinking of returning to London, her sabbatical is ending and the work at RSF, plus these lessons… I’m… I’m tired.”

“Maybe you should go back to London,” she suggested. “With your mother, I mean. Not forever. See your old friends, spend some time in your old haunts, take a break from the madness here.”

"That might not be a bad idea," he agreed quietly. "I do miss London and my birthday is coming up." 

“I’ll be disappointed not to spend it with you, but there will be other birthdays,” she mused. “Do it. Take a break, you deserve it.”

"You don't mind?" Anakin asked her softly. 

“We have plenty of time together for the future,” she pointed out, pressing her lips to his neck. “Besides, I’m going to be busy with the trial, if you stayed, then it’d just be both of us being overworked and stressed. Just promise me you won’t fall in love with anyone else while you’re away.”

"That's impossible, my love," he whispered, kissing her knuckles. "I'm probably only having dinner with some friends. It won't be anything special."

“Well, we can never be too careful,” she teased. “Though it may be easier to avoid now that we’ve finally gotten a statement out. I, for one, feel better knowing that the world knows I’m your girlfriend.”

"Yes, now everyone knows I am yours and out of the market," he teased. "How anxious were you to stake your claim on me, Princess?" 

“Enough that I still want to cover your throat in bruises,” she answered, her teeth scraping his pulse point. “And maybe get a necklace with an ‘A’ pendant.”

The action made him shiver and send his blood run down south. "Nothing's really stopping you, is it? And I can take care of that second part."

“Hmm, are you sure? Shouldn’t I be getting you a gift? It’s your birthday coming up.” Her hand snaked down to the waist of his jeans, unfastening them as she continued kissing his neck.

Anakin groaned, head falling to the side giving her easier access. Her effect on him was clear and if this was her strategy to relax him, she was a very intelligent woman. "I'm sure you'll think of something to give me, you're very resourceful, love."

“I have someone worth fighting for,” she replied between kisses, her fingers slipping beneath his boxers and stroking the base of his cock. “Someone handsome, and charming, and clever, and brave.” With each adjective, the kisses became more forceful. “And he’s absolutely  _ divine _ in bed.”

His hips bucked forward, he let out a little moan of pleasure as he turned his head to be able to crash his lips with hers, pushing his tongue inside her mouth, kissing her until they were both breathless. "Careful, love, you are stroking my ego, among other parts of me. You can't be that concerned I'll fall in love with someone else," he teased. 

“No, but it never hurts to make sure I’m on your mind while we’re apart.” Her grip tightened as she moved into a more frantic pace, working him towards his climax.

" _ Fuck, _ " he groaned as he gripped the arms of the chair, feeling his climax build and as the pressure of her hand tightened, he came with a loud moan as he rocked his hips forward, to match her pace. "You… are my complete undoing," he said panting. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, her tongue brushing along his lips. “And I already miss you.”

“Hmm, let me return the favor and make sure I’m on  _ your  _ mind while I’m gone,” he took her hand and pulled her around his chair. “Sit on the table,” he ordered with a sly smile.

“Anakin, what if someone comes in?” she gasped, pushing back her hair with a giggle.

“That’s half the fun,” he bit his lip, dark blue eyes twinkling with desire.

“You are  _ so  _ bad,” Padmé sank onto the table, pulling up her pale blue skirt and reaching for the waist of her pantyhose. “I love it.”

“These things are just a waste of time,” he sighed impatiently, and tore the pantyhose apart, leaving the shreds at the side of the table. He pushed the skirt further up, leaving it bundled at her waist, as he pulled her a bit closer to the edge of the table.

“They’re proper attire for a young woman in my position,” she retorted.

“Your current predicament is definitely  _ not  _ a proper one for a young woman in your position and yet, here we are,” he drawled with a smirk, slowly pulling her panties down her legs. “With an unlocked door, no less,” he chuckled, throwing the piece of lace to the side and spreading her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs. 

“This was  _ your _ idea.”

Anakin brushed his lips against her womanhood. “You’re welcome to leave, my love,” he whispered.

“Unsatisfied?” she retorted, leaning back. “Never. You have a duty to your princess,  _ mon chevalier. _ ”

He smiled before he covered her with his mouth, alternating between sucking at her clit and licking her entrance, his hands holding her hips in place as he launched a merciless onslaught of pleasure on her. Despite his firm grip, Padmé rocked her hips back and forth, gasping wordlessly until her orgasm was nearly upon her.

“ _ Anakin… _ ”

Very suddenly, and as he realized she was almost,  _ almost  _ having her release, he pulled back, stopping everything he was doing and standing from his seat, caressing her thighs. “Yes, love?”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” she whined. “I would never do that to you, you’re torturing me!”

“Yes, but I like to have the control,” he quirked one eyebrow. “Seeing you flushed, near orgasm and completely at my mercy is one of the best aphrodisiac images I could ever think of,” he said teasingly. “How badly do you want to come?”

“I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t want you to do anything, I just don’t want you to come,” he said with an evil smirk. “Yet.”

“That’s cruel.”

“Hmm, my poor little Princess,” he cooed as he positioned himself at her entrance and in a single trust, sheathed himself inside of her. “No. Orgasm. Or I’ll pull right out,” he threatened as he pulled her forward, so her backside was nearly hanging off the table.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worked me up then,” she retorted, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Are you telling me, Your Highness, you have no willpower?” he teased kissing her down her jawline, before giving her a chaste kiss on her lips, moving to thrust into her again.

“Not—when—it— _ comes, _ ” she gasped, “to—you...”

“I’m flattered,” he nuzzled her cheek. “Lay back down on the table,” he whispered in her ear, thrusting one more time, “please,” he added with a small chuckle.

“Oh,  _ god, _ ” she whimpered, obeying him as her legs kicked in anticipation and the table creaked under their weight.

“God has  _ very  _ little to do with what’s happening right now,” he teased as he set up a slow, steady pace, thrusting in and out of her, gripping her hips and making her match his pace. “No coming until I tell you, love,” he taunted.

“Anakin,  _ please _ ,” she begged. “This isn’t fair.”

He picked up the pace, completely ignoring the way the table creaked under their weight, and brought his hand down to where they were joined, starting to rub at her clit. He was silent for a few moments until he took pity on her, “alright, love, you can come for me now.”

Padmé let out a shriek, slamming her fists onto the wooden table as she climaxed. The impact was just enough to make the table crack, and she started to fall towards the ground. With quick reflexes, he pulled her forward and as she wrapped her legs around his waist, he fell backward into the chair he had previously been sitting, coming inside of her moments later. He let his head fall into her chest before a burst of laughter left his lips.

“I hope you know how to explain  _ that  _ to your parents,” he snickered, pointed at the pile of wood in front of them.

“Luckily, it’s not an antique,” she sighed, nestling her head in his neck as she wiggled off him. “I’ll just buy a new one from my allowance and hope we never have to explain it.”

“Hmm,” he kissed her temple. “I miss you already too.”

“I heard shrieking, is everything—” Eirtaé poked her head through the door and paused, taking into account the shredded stockings, discarded underwear, and broken table. “Okay, I’m going to just leave and pretend that I didn’t see any of this.”

* * *

 

“Anakin! Oh my God, I have missed you,” Obi-Wan laughed as he pulled the younger man into a hug. “Finally came to help me with the piles of essays I have to grade and the final exams?” He chuckled.

“I’m actually on a break, Obi-Wan, I’m supposed to be relaxing,” Anakin replied teasingly, clapping him on the back. “I arrived this morning, wanted to see how you were since we haven’t been speaking a lot,” he smiled, leaning against what used to be his desk. “Have you found someone to replace me?”

“I have to share Caleb Dume with Depa Bilaba,” Obi-Wan grumbled. “It’s not exactly convenient, but since you left so quickly, I had very few options.”

“I really am sorry to have deserted you the way that I did. You gave me an amazing chance to teach under your tutelage and I was ungrateful, my apologies,” Anakin sighed. “This feels like a lifetime ago and in reality, it was only four months.”

“You’ve been much busier than I have,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Getting involved in the political entanglement of a small country, discovering your long lost family, falling in love with a princess, it must be exhausting.” His tone was light, teasing.

Anakin sighed. “It is,” he laughed weakly. “I often wake up and think ‘ _ wow, this is really happening, this is my reality now’  _ and I don’t know, my brain is still catching up with all the events since I first took a trip there. I can’t believe that two more months and it’s going to be a year,” he shook his head. “All that I am sure of is that I love her. I love Padmé. That was the best thing that happened to me all my life.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He paused and looked at Obi-Wan for a long moment. Then he shook his head ‘no.’ “I wasn’t either.”

“It was rude of me to try and pressure you because of Satine, but Qui-Gon made me,” he made a face. “Can you tell me what happened?” Anakin asked softly and took his seat. “I’ll help you grade essays while you tell me,” he offered.

“Anakin, please.”

He grabbed a few essays and a red-pen. “Grading half of your essays and helping you build the final exam, that’s a nice exchange for a simple story. Please, Obi-Wan, it might be able to help me with my existential crisis.”

Obi-Wan took the stack of papers in front of him and divided it into two stacks, one clearly larger than the other, passing the larger one to Anakin. “Satine and I started as a summer romance. I did some freelance work for the RSF during my summers, we met at a charity function she was hosting, and shortly thereafter, she spent some time abroad at the English Embassy, not unlike your father had. Though for different purposes, obviously. And, when the time came for me to take a sabbatical, she invited me to stay with her for a year.”

Anakin kept grading the papers, glancing between the words and Obi-Wan. “Did you say yes? How did it go from there?” He asked quietly, as he graded the paper with a ‘B’.

“How it went, Anakin, was that she started moving away from general humanitarian work and into politics proper, and a divide started to grow between us. I thought proposing would stop it from growing. But that wasn’t what happened.”

“What broke you two apart?” He questioned, setting his first ‘A’ aside and picking another one from the pile. “Her political life?”

“In a manner of speaking. It wasn’t just that we never seemed to have time we could spend together, it was that the more she got involved in politics, the more I could see differences in our ideologies. I took the coward’s way out, and I left her, and I have regretted it ever since, but I cannot go back, because I know it would never work.”

“You were afraid, Obi-Wan, you got scared that something that started out simple evolved into a more challenging relationship,” Anakin sighed. “Which is kind of what is happening with me, but, I want to speak about Satine. I met her at Padmé’s birthday ball and she is a wonderful woman. Qui-Gon is convinced that you can still recover your relationship. From what he told me, she never forgot you. Never married. Still wears the engagement ring you gave her all those years back,” he pointed out. “Isn’t that worth another shot? Or at least, some closure?”

“Anakin, stop, please!” Obi-Wan all but shouted. “I can’t face her again, do you understand that? I don’t want to talk about this any further.”

He paused, twirling the red pen over his fingers. “I won’t touch the subject again, Obi-Wan. You have my word,” Anakin said and continued grading the papers. “You know I have been attending some royal classes? To learn about how royals behave during state dinners, official events, speaking in public and apparently, I also have to know the royal family trees of every monarchy left Europe by heart? Or nearly by heart?” He changed the subject easily.

“You’re being groomed to be Prince Consort.” Obi-Wan surmised.

“I know. I’m terrified of that role,” he shivered, writing some notes on the corner of the essay. “I’m either going to be really good and feel amazing about myself, or I’m going to fail miserably, and the fact I can’t imagine an in-between, is driving me insane.”

“Breathe, Anakin.”

Anakin obeyed and leaned back in his chair. “I love her. I can’t stress this enough. I. Love. Her. More than anything in the world. But thinking about giving up my entire, possible career at twenty-two, for charity work and advisor to her, it scares me. I know, it’s selfish, I just… it scares me. Especially when I think I’m failing the royal course.”

Obi-Wan set aside his own paperwork. “If you’re here on holiday, forget about that for now. Call Ahsoka and your other friends, we’ll go on a pub crawl and make plans for your birthday, and at least try to act like things are normal.”

He took a deep breath, nodding. “That might be the smartest thing to do. I’ll call Kitster, tell him to gather our group and then call Ahsoka to meet us. What will I do without your advice?”

“Muck things up horribly, I suppose.”

Anakin groaned and let his head fall on the table. “Don’t be mean. This is my life.”

“As long as you don’t pressure me about my romantic past, Anakin, I am always a phone call away. We’re practically family, I would never abandon you.”

“Then come with me. Be to me… whatever Eirtaé is to Padmé. I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” Anakin pleaded, eyes very wide and very bright. “Please, please, please tell me you’ll consider it.”

Obi-Wan hesitated. “The term isn’t over yet. I can’t just abandon everyone.”

“I can wait until the term is over. Just. Please,” he paused. “Think about it. I’ll never mention Satine again. I will forbid Qui-Gon to do so. Please, consider my request.”

The older man let out a sigh. “Alright. Because you are my friend. And because the job will probably pay better, and won’t require me to grade anything.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Anakin jumped from his seat and grabbed the older man in a tight hug. “Thank you!” He pulled back. “Now, let’s grab my friends, watch them make stupid and obnoxious questions about my romantic, royal life and get wasted.”

* * *

 

“Breathe, Anakin.”

“Stop telling me that,” Anakin shrieked before wincing. He had a splitting headache, thanks to the alcohol of the previous night. “This… this... Look at  _ this! _ ” He threw the five newspapers on top of the table. “What the  _ hell  _ is this?”

Obi-Wan and Shmi exchanged glances as they looked over the low-quality pictures of the previous evening’s pub crawl, including one of Anakin with his arm around Amee. “This was while we were all singing Piano Man, wasn’t it?” Obi-Wan asked lightly. “I would say you are within your rights to sue for defamation of character, but I wouldn’t worry about this harming your relationship with Padmé. It’s just the tabloids trying to cook up a scandal.”

“Darling, they’re not worth the energy,” Shmi tried to say soothingly.

“Have you read what they wrote about me? About Amee? My relationship with Padmé? This is complete madness. Just because Amee and I dated, it means we can’t hang out with friends? Really? People consider it cheating right away?” He growled. “I thought I would be safe here. With William and Kate and their babies, plus Harry and his tabloid favorite wife. Why me?” He sat on the chair, whining. “I’m supposed to be on holidays and now I have paparazzi camping in my front yard.”

“You’re a new story here,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “Naboo’s had you for long enough that they’ve gotten bored, but over here, you’re an opportunity waiting to happen, especially with your grandfather about to go to trial.”

“If anyone asks for me, I’m not here. I’m going upstairs, to my room, shut the TV off, turn my notifications off and just sleep until this nightmare is over,” he hissed grabbing the aspirin his mother had previously got him for his headache and a bottle of water before sprinting upstairs.

Obi-Wan sighed and took the untouched plate of pancakes Shmi had made, carrying it up after Anakin. “You shouldn’t let these go to waste,” he said, stepping into Anakin’s bedroom. “You’ll just wake up even hungrier.”

“I’m not hungry, I’m pissed,” Anakin declared laying face down on his bed.

Obi-Wan set the plate on the bedside table. “Do you want me to handle it?”

“Yes. As long as I don’t have to,” he grumbled.

“Then I’ll handle it today because you’re still hungover. But you’re going to have to get used to this, Anakin, if you’re determined to stay with your Princess.”

Anakin groaned and covered his head with a pillow. “Handle this mess and stop making me feel depressed,” he said, voice muffled.

“Eat something,” Obi-Wan retorted as he left the bedroom. “You’ll feel better.” Anakin’s response was pulling the blanket over his body, determined to hide from everything.

* * *

“ _ Quel salaud _ !” Padmé swore viciously. “I’m sorry,  _ mon cher. _ ”

“Obi-Wan’s handling it,” Anakin muttered, shrugging.

“He has handled it,” she corrected, pausing to read. “Breaking news, a statement from one of Mr. Skywalker’s representatives: ‘Mr. Skywalker returned to London with the intent of reconnecting with friends and family. He has not rekindled his relationship with Amee Lucas, nor cheated on the Princess of Theed. Those papers that have printed this statement are asked to publicly retract it or face legal action.’ He works fast. And well.”

Anakin sighed. “Good, he handled it. Obi-Wan, besides being an Engineer, is fantastic with words. He was nicknamed the Great Negotiator. He has kind of accepted to be my Eirtaé, by the way. I trust him and if it weren’t for him today, I would have lost it.”

“I’m sure that we can arrange a contract to his liking. Maybe find someone from Naboo to cover the remainder of his classes on short notice, so that you don’t have to go without him for very long.”

“He’s staying until the end of the term and I prefer if he does so. It will make the change easier on him,” Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this too. It’s very unfair.”

“I’m used to it though,” she sighed. “We’re actually on a recess right now. When we go back in, Dooku will be testifying.”

“I can’t believe  _ that  _ particular nightmare is days aways of being over,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I won’t lie, it’s equal parts excruciating and enthralling to watch your grandfather throughout all this. I’ll be glad when we get to bringing Fett out.”

“As long as he doesn’t get away with it, I’ll rest easy. Until his sentence is given and carried out, I will always have this fear he’ll manage to escape and try to hurt you again. You know he’s capable of it,” Anakin stressed.

“I know,” she sighed. “But he has this way of getting under my skin. And I miss you.”

“I miss you too, especially after this morning. I was already hungover and reading all this crap didn’t help my mood. I completely lost it and that is why I need Obi-Wan. He helps me think rationally. This is still new to me, I still don’t know how to just brush it off,” he confessed.

“We’ll get there,” she promised. “We have time. I love you.”

"I love you too. I'll be back before you know it."

“I know you will. I have to go now, the trial’s about to resume.”

"Call me when it's over. Bye. Love you!" 


	18. Is This The End?

On principal, Padmé did  _ not _ agree with the death penalty. The fact that Naboo had never abolished it had not sat well with her, even with the caveat that it was reserved only for the highest of crimes, the most extreme cases. 

But the prospect of hearing the sentence handed down to Sheev Palpatine gave her a savage kind of relief. Perhaps it was because this was so final, so personal, thanks to how he’d meddled in her life and Anakin’s. But this needed to be the last time.

“Sheev Palpatine, you have been found guilty of High Treason,” the judge intoned. “And thus, your estates are to be confiscated by the Crown, and you are hereby sentenced to death, to be carried out at the pleasure of the King.”

“Tonight,” Ruwee growled. That got Palpatine to react for the first time.

“You would execute me without giving me the chance to say goodbye to my grandson.”

“You severely overestimate your grandson’s sway if you think it will change anything,” the King said coldly. “You will be executed tonight, before you can try to escape or undermine this ruling in some other way.”

“I have the right to a last request, don’t I?” Sheev snapped.

“After all the harm you’ve done? I think not.”

“It’s in the law,  _ your Majesty, _ ” he spat the term.

“What is it, exactly, that you want?” Padmé interrupted before her father could speak again. “You have to know Anakin won’t come, not after your pride and ambition nearly got him killed.”

“I want to be able to have a private call with my grandson. After your stories and your manipulation turned him against me, I deserve a chance to explain myself.”

“Absolutely not. Not a private call,” Ruwee snapped.

“It will be my last conversation with him. We both have a right to privacy.”

“Do you think I am foolish enough to leave you unsupervised to call someone else that might help you escape?”

“I’ll place the call,” Padmé interjected. “ _ Then _ give it to you.”

“Then so be it,” Sheev seethed.

“Get him out of here, we have the rest of his accomplices to sentence,” Ruwee ordered. Next to him, Jobal silently took his hand and kissed it. Padmé sighed and stood, moving to the door. She needed to call Anakin.

“What do you think he’s planning?” Sabé asked, falling in step with her as they left the High Court.

“I don’t know,” Padmé sighed. “Either Anakin’s a really good actor, or our former Chancellor’s an idiot.”

“He will try to manipulate him, again,” Sabé said. “It can be a trick.”

“We can’t leave him alone, even if it’s not for very long.” Padmé sighed, stepping into a room with a landline. No way in hell was she letting Palpatine have access to her cellphone. “Tell the guards holding the prisoner to bring him in here. I should have Anakin convinced by then.”

She picked up the phone, dialing the number with a deep breath.

“Hello?” Anakin answered.

“ _ Mon cher? _ We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“Padmé? Which number is it? Is the trial over? What happened?” Padmé sighed. “Padmé?” He insisted. “What did he do?”

“It’s over. He’s been sentenced, and Father wanted the execution to happen tonight, but he’s insisting on speaking to you as his last request.”

There was silence on the other side as Anakin thought about the request. “Hm, I see,” he whispered before pausing. “I’ll speak to him.”

“It’s almost over, love.”

“I know, this way, it will be over faster.”

Padmé glanced over her shoulder to see Palpatine escorted in by the guards. “He’s here.”

“You may leave me alone to speak with my grandson, your Highness.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you when you’ve been convicted of trying to kill me.” Padmé’s grip tightened on the phone.

“I’m in handcuffs, what is the worst I could do?” Sheev replied coldly.

“Padmé, it’s alright. You can leave,” Anakin said calmly.

“Okay,” she sighed in agreement, passing the phone into Palpatine’s cuffed hands. “But don’t think I won’t be right outside that door with the guards.”

“Of course,  _ my dear, _ ” Palpatine sneered. Padmé glared at him as she slipped out of the room, hovering by the edge of the door.

* * *

 

“You wanted to speak to me?” Anakin sighed.

“Anakin, surely you don’t believe all this nonsense,” Palpatine asked, sounding every inch the doting grandfather.

“Don’t believe? I am not supposed to believe the assassin that nearly killed me because you wouldn’t pay him? I am not supposed to believe your brother, your accomplice in all of this?” Anakin enumerated. “I am not supposed to believe my mother’s opinion of you, what my father thought of you?  _ You  _ are the one that surely does not believe he can still manipulate me.”

“Anakin, be reasonable. You can’t be so naïve as to take everything they say at face value. They have every reason to smear my name as much as possible in order to save their own skins. This is politics.”

“After all the evidence that was presented against you, nobody believes you. Not even me. I’ve known from the beginning that you were the one to leak my images to the press and to reveal my relationship with Padmé. Your blind ambition for power drove away your son, it nearly killed me, your grandson, and you still try to pull these nasty tricks,” Anakin scowled. “If this was the conversation you wanted to have with me, it was a wasted one.” 

“You ought to be thanking me,” Palpatine snarled. “I am the only one who has tried to educate you on the realities of Naboo. Given enough time, you will see that your princess is no better than I am. She will use whatever she can to make political gains.”

Anakin paused. “You wanted me to marry her so you would have your bloodline on the throne. I knew your plan revolved around the crown matrimonial from the moment I entered both of your lives. You would kill her to leave me on the throne. You wanted to be able to manipulate me into being your puppet and I don’t know what made you think you could do that,” he ranted. “Padmé is eons ahead of what you are.”

“Give it time,” Palpatine predicted. “Without me to guide you, she will eventually tire of you and her attention will wander. She is a fickle little thing.”

“You are resorting to cheap tactics now? A few months ago, you were nearly begging me to propose to her and now what is your goal? To push me away? It’s never going to work, grandfather. I love her too much.”

“Just a warning, Anakin. Do not let the love of a woman destroy you the way it did your father. And no matter what you might think, I did have your best interests at heart. I loved you.” Palpatine placed the receiver down before Anakin could make a reply.

“You’re unbelievable,” Padmé remarked from the doorway. “You know it won’t change anything.”

“On the contrary, my dear Princess. Either he will take my advice and leave you before you can leave him, thus breaking your heart, or the two of you will stand the test of time, and I  _ will _ have a descendant sitting on that throne. I  _ am _ hoping for the latter, even if it means I have to suffer your blood tainting mine.”

“Yours is the blood that taints,” Padmé retorted coldly as the guards took Palpatine by the arms. “And I love Anakin in spite of it. All I hear are the last words of a doomed man, desperate to have one last victory. It will not work. Your overconfidence has always been your weakness.”

“Either way, your Highness, I will win.”

“You give yourself too much credit.” 

Before the former Chancellor had the chance to reply, he was dragged away by the guards. Sabé moved closer to Padmé, touching her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Padmé promised, placing her hand over her friend’s. “But I don’t think I’ll be attending the execution. I want to go home and take a long soak in the bath.”

“As you wish. I will let you know once the sentence is carried out,” Eirtaé nodded.

“Thank you.” Padmé pulled both of them into a hug. “You two have been with me through all of this, and it’s been a tremendous help. I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

“It’s good while we are still needed,” Sabé chuckled returning the hug. “When you have your beau over, it’s like we don’t exist,” she teased.

“Oh, come on! Just because I’m seeing Anakin that doesn’t mean you mean any less to me.”

“You need us less,” Eirtaé pointed out. “But that’s not a bad thing. You’re in love and we’re happy for you.”

“ _ You _ are,” Sabé grumbled. “I still don’t like him.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” Eirtaé teased. “Come on, Princess, let’s get you home.”

* * *

 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” a soft, familiar voice whispered in her ear.

“Hmm?” Padmé rolled over and blearily opened her eyes to see Anakin standing over her. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Hello, beautiful,” he smiled at her, kissing her cheek. “I missed you, love.”

“Three weeks was far too long,” she agreed, sitting up to pull him in for a proper kiss. “But I understand why you took so long. With the madness around here…”

“It was good to be back home, be with my friends. I missed it, I didn’t know how much until I got there,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yes, it also helped deal with that particular situation. I’m just glad things around here are going back to normal. Have you elected a new Chancellor?”

“Mina Bonteri,” she confirmed. “A wonderful woman, she’s been in the Parliament for a long time. But let’s not talk politics right now, we’re together again.”

“Yes and I do have the free day before I am needed back at the RSF,” Anakin grinned. “I am all yours today, love.”

“The sexiest words I ever heard,” she laughed, pulling him onto the bed.

“I will start thinking you only want me for my body,” he teased.

“You don’t want me for mine?” she countered.

“I love  _ all  _ of you,” he whispered, kissing her exposed neck. “Every inch.”

“Tell me about London,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair as he kissed her.

“Hmm,” he supported himself in his elbow. “It was fun and relaxing, except that whole media thing, but Obi-Wan handled it like a professional. I managed to help Ahsoka prepare for her finals, I helped Obi-Wan prepare his lessons and build the final exam for his classes and my mother threw me an intimate birthday party. It was just us and our closest friends, which I loved and she did my favorite dinner. Other than that… I took the time to exercise, read, finished a few projects that were pending… now I’m back.”

“Indeed you are,” she agreed. “Does Ahsoka still need brunch with me?”

“She said she will visit, I would like you to meet her then, so, yes.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Padmé pressed her face into his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin. “Oh,  _ mon cher _ , I missed you.”

“I’m here,” he said softly, kissing her hair.

“So, what do you want to do today if we’re not going to spend it all in this bed?”

Anakin shrugged. “I don’t know, what do you feel like doing? We can’t exactly go out, do some shopping and eat at a random restaurant, can we?”

“No,” she agreed. “But there’s a lot to do here. Remind me, how good are you at horseback riding?”

“I’m not, since I’ve never done it before.”

“Well, then, maybe I could teach you. Or there’s archery. Or maybe we just walk around the gardens, holding hands.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’ll let you choose.”

“A walk sounds nice,” she mused. “Just let me put my clothes on.”

“Then a walk it is,” Anakin beamed. “Of course, love.”

“Do you mind grabbing me some clothes while I use the bathroom?”

“I have the power of decision? That sounds fun,” he quipped, jumping out of bed and moving towards her closet. 

“Nothing too fancy!” she warned as she slipped in the bathroom.

From the closet, Anakin got a bit disoriented with all the clothes, so he chose what he knew were her favorite pair of jeans, a blue silk blouse, and flats from the shoe closet. He laid all the items on her bed and making sure the shower was still running, he searched inside his pocket for the velvet box with the necklace inside. She did mention before he left and he did agree on giving her a necklace with his initial and while in London, he had found a beautiful, delicate necklace that would match perfectly with the one he had given her on her birthday. The letter was encrusted with diamonds and he hoped she liked the gesture.

The water stopped running and Padmé emerged with a towel wrapped around her body and another around her hair. “Cute choices,” she mused playfully. “Though I notice you’re not yet comfortable enough to handle my lingerie when it’s not on my body.”

He blushed. “How creepy would it be, having me rummage through your lingerie drawer?”

“Anakin, you’re my boyfriend, it’s not creepy,” she insisted, moving to the drawer in question and pulling out a set of lacy white panties and a matching bra. “Or at least, I don’t think it is.”

“Still, I prefer to rip it off of your body,” he quipped.

“Mhm, later.” She slipped the underwear up her legs, then unceremoniously dropped the towel so she could put the bra on.

“You don’t play fair,” he whined from behind her. “Now I won’t give you your gift.”

“I get a gift?” She clasped the bra and pulled it up before looking at him with raised eyebrows. “But I owe  _ you _ a gift, I’m the one who missed your birthday.”

“You have time to make it up to me,” he smiled. “It’s nothing special, something that I found in London and I wanted to give it to you. I am allowed to spoil you, from time to time, while I can remember what to give you. I mean, what do you give a woman who is an  _ actual  _ Princess and lives in an  _ actual  _ Palace?”

“Anakin, you shouldn’t have.” She moved past him to pick the blouse up from the bed and pull it up one arm. “It’s very sweet of you, though.”

He took the necklace between his fingers and let the letter ‘A’ dangled before her eyes. “It’s another necklace. Next time, I’ll try to give you a ring,” he shrugged, not even weighing his words.

“Is that so?” Padmé pulled the other sleeve on before twisting her hair up so that Anakin could get access to her neck.

“You did say you wanted to wear my initial around your neck,” he teased, clasping the necklace and dropping a kiss behind her neck.

“I did. But you don’t need to rush from necklaces to rings, just because you’re running out of space on my neck,” she pointed out, turning to nip at his ear. “There’s also earrings.” She lifted a hand and kissed his wrist. “Bracelets.” Her lips moved to his fingers. “ _ Then _ …”

He thought about his previous words and nodded, flushing. “You’re right. A ring might be way too soon,” he said. “Although there are many types of rings, you know,” he tried to salvage his mistake.

Padmé smiled at him wryly, letting him know she wasn’t fooled. “But I love you for thinking about it,  _ mon cher. _ And as it happens, I do have something for you. Honestly, I’m relieved you delayed your return, it gave me time to put the finishing touches on it. It’s over on the desk, actually.”

His eyes danced between her and her desk. “What is it?” He asked as he moved towards the desk, looking for his gift.

“The leather-bound folder,” she said, pointing at the item in question.

Anakin picked up the item curiously and opened it. “What am I looking at?”

“You are looking,” she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, using one perfectly manicured nail to indicate where his gaze should go, “at your new research grant. I know there are a lot of projects you wanted to do before we met, and I want to help you see those dreams realized.”

He was speechless for a few moments, reading the document and trying to process the information. She just handed him the opportunity to do everything he had wanted, but he didn’t feel comfortable with just accepting it. “You didn’t need to do this,” he said. “It’s too much, Padmé, I can’t accept this. It’s sweet, it really is, I just… I can’t have my girlfriend funding me.”

Her face fell. “I understand. I just...you’ve given up so much for me. I thought this was the least I could do. To try and give it back to you.”

“Many people fight their whole academic and professional life for something like this,” he closed the folder and set it back on the desk. “It doesn’t feel right for me to take it. Maybe you can speak with local universities and make sure this goes to someone who is working their ass off at a lab this moment, to win something like this. It’s the fair thing to do,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you for the gesture,” Anakin said quietly. 

“You think you haven’t worked your ass off? Anakin, you’ve practically got your doctorate, and you’re only twenty-two,” Padmé sighed and went back to the bed to put on her jeans. “You’re brilliant, and that brilliance should be acknowledged.”

“In a way, it already was. I was lucky that Cambridge believed that I could do this, have a doctorate by twenty-two. They gave me an amazing chance to show my intelligence and I am proud of everything I’ve done so far. But how would it look like, to have you, my girlfriend, funding my research and my work? It does not work that way,” he said calmly. He wouldn’t tell her about the offers he already had. The applications that he sent out before he met her or during those initial months they were speaking over the phone, that had finally come through. Anakin wouldn’t tell her that he spent the last week in London writing, with Obi-Wan’s help, letters declining the offers. “I like the work I’m doing with the RSF. Don’t be upset with me, I did love the gift and will love it even more when it’s earned by someone who has fought for it.”

“We could rework it into a foundation,” she suggested. “One named for you. The Skywalker Foundation, providing grants to those who excel in robotics and artificial intelligence.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said with a sigh, knowing she just wanted to make him happy. “Running a Foundation is not something you can take lightly and I never thought about doing this, at least this soon in my life. I’ll give it some thought.”

Padmé groaned, falling back on the bed. “I’m awful.”

“You’re not,” he chuckled. “Maybe next year, just buy me a book. I do like to read.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better, it only makes it worse,” she complained. “You’re too good for me.”

“I love you, Padmé and I did love your gift. It was very thoughtful and under different circumstances, I might have accepted it. But you understand why I won’t, right?” He sat next to her and took her hand.

“And I should have realized that before I started,” she said glumly.

“You were excited about making my dreams come true and I can’t hold that against you.  _ You  _ shouldn’t hold that against yourself either.”

“You are a true Prince, Anakin Skywalker, in a way that has nothing to do with being born to a certain family,” she declared, sitting up to look at him. “And I don’t know how I got so lucky as to be loved by you.”

“I love you,” he kissed her cheek. “Let’s go on our walk. You’re ready?” 

She nodded, pulling on the flats he’d picked out. “Lead on.”

* * *

“You should tell her about the grants, Ani, keeping secrets will only end up hurting you.”

Anakin sighed. “I don’t want to hurt  _ her. _ How would she feel if she knew about them?”

“I don’t see why she’d feel hurt, you sent in those applications long before you’d set foot in Naboo. It’s not her fault they took so long to respond to you.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want her to feel guilty or responsible that I ended up refusing them,” he muttered. “Padmé wanted to give me a research grant because she already does feel sort of guilty, why fuel that feeling? I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“I’m just worried, love, if she finds out later, it might be even worse.”

“There’s nothing she can do. Not now, not in the future. They have already been refused and I don’t want to speak about it any longer,” he said impatiently, the subject clearly irritating him.

“Alright, Ani, if you really think it’s what’s best.”

“I’m thinking about marrying her,” he said, trying to distract his mother from speaking about the same thing, again. The grants were already refused, he was not going to say anything to his girlfriend and only if Obi-Wan or Shmi spoke about it, would she know the truth. “I was thinking I could propose on the day that we celebrate our one year anniversary of when we met… and she nearly got shot, but that’s easily ignored.”

“You  _ did _ get shot that day.”

“It grazed me,” he quipped. “It wasn’t serious. Anyway, I wanted to show you the ring. I wanted you to see it first, because it’s special.”

“You already have a ring?”

“It was easy,” he said softly. “After all, it was the ring that Dad commissioned for you before he died. Qui-Gon has been keeping it safe for the past two decades.”

Shmi’s eyes widened. “Your father did what?”

Anakin picked up the blue velvet box near him and opened it. Placing it in front of his camera, Shmi could see the beautiful, cushion-cut sapphire staring at her, with two diamond baguettes flanking it. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s perfect,” Shmi sighed wistfully. “He knew me so well. I wish I could have gotten to wear it, but I’m sure he’d love to see it on the finger of the woman you love. I know I will.”

“I’m hoping,” he smiled, closing the box and setting it aside. “Do you think it’s fast?” He asked quietly.

“There’s no set calendar for these things, Ani. Do you think you’re ready to take this next step? To commit to her?”

“If I’m not, then what am I even doing here?” He questioned. “I wrapped up my whole life to be here. With her. For her. If this is not being ready for the next chapter, I don’t know what is.”

Shmi laughed a little, shaking her head. “Your father said something very similar when we were on the plane back to London.”

“Then I guess it’s a sign,” Anakin smiled. “That I’m doing the right thing. This time, I’m not even asking for permission.”

“I have heard it’s better to beg forgiveness.”

“I wish you were here, I miss you,” he said.

“Well, I have been working on seeing about a transfer to Theed Royal Hospital.”

“Really?” Anakin perked up. “You would move here?” He asked excitedly.

“You’re there, Obi-Wan is about to be there, Ahsoka probably won’t be far behind. Why wouldn’t I go where the people I love are?”

“You have no idea how happy that would make me,” he beamed, clasping his hands. “I’m feeling kind of alone,” he chuckled, embarrassed. “I can’t wait for Obi-Wan to be here. For you. I need all of you.”

“We’re family, Ani, we’ll always be there for you when you need us.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I should let you rest. I also have to sleep, tomorrow I have an early day at work. I love you, Mum.”.

“I love you too, darling.”

He hung up the call and logged off Skype, closing the laptop lid. He picked up the box again and opened it, staring at the ring. In two months, Padmé would be, hopefully, wearing it.

* * *

“Anakin.”

“Padmé.” He replied looking up. “Are we saying each other’s names now?”

“Could you come join me in the gardens, please?” she asked.

“Of course,” he frowned, confused. “Anything special?” He asked, standing up.

“No, but I need you in the gardens, quite urgently,” she answered, her head disappearing from the doorway before he could reply. Shrugging, he followed her.

The gardens, as it turned out, looked almost exactly as it had the night of their first date. “You didn’t think I’d forget our anniversary, did you?” Padmé asked with a smile. “I know it’s not been a year since we started dating, but I thought it’d be a nice bit of symmetry,  _ n’est-pas _ ?”

“It’s beautiful, love,” he said in awe. “I know you didn’t forget,” he teased. This surprise of her could actually work in his favor. “Neither did I, but I thought you would be busy today, with Parliament.”

“Chancellor Bonteri called the session early,” she answered innocently. “Besides, I have no legislation currently under review since Papa rushed my last proposal and it failed to pass in the chaos of the trial.” She sounded a little bitter there.

“I’m sorry it failed, love, I know you worked hard on it and not just to entice my grandfather,” Anakin said. “Why did you want it to pass so passionately, Padmé? Why turn a centuries-old monarchy into a Republic?”

“I’m not comfortable with it anymore,” she answered, moving towards the table and taking a seat. “We were so close to chaos, to a legal coup, because of the way things are done now. It needed to be changed, to prevent something like this ever happening again.”

“You will be Queen one day, you will be able to make changes of your own, but drastically changing one country’s entire ruling system, would probably having worse consequences than what you were expecting,” Anakin took the seat in front of her. “It all worked for the best and that’s all you have to focus on.”

“Have you been talking to Papa?” she asked, pouting slightly. “You sound like him.”

“Maybe it’s all the royal lessons I’ve been having,” he chuckled.

“Obi-Wan is quite a miracle worker, you’ve made a lot of progress.” She ran her finger along the rim of her champagne flute. “Though I would prefer it if he stopped charging out of the room at state functions when Lady Kryze puts in an appearance.”

Anakin cringed. “He’s working on the courage to be able to speak with her again. I hope it happens sometime soon. I can’t stand him moping around for her any longer.”

“Getting back to the point, Anakin, I still believe there’s merit in what I proposed, and it may need fine-tuning, but it could work. The people deserve more of a voice in choosing their rulers.”

“I will start to think your father is right and you don’t want to be Queen,” he raised his eyebrows.

“No, I do,” Padmé insisted. “But I don’t,” she paused to sigh and look down. “I don’t want to see it forced on anyone else. We both know how much this life changes people.”

“Please tell me this is not about me,” he narrowed his eyes.

“Less about you and more about… any hypothetical children that might be in our future,” she mumbled.

“Sola abdicated. Any hypothetical children in our future will have the same option, won’t they?”

“The first ones, maybe, but that has its limits—”

“Padmé, you can’t suffer in anticipation for something that hasn’t happened yet,” he reached out to take her hand. “You’re thinking our children won’t want the crown, but you can’t possibly know that. They will grow up watching you change the world and they will want to be like you. To do the same.”

“I want a world they’ll be safe in,” she whispered. “Where they don’t have to worry about anything the way I do.”

“That is what we are here for, isn’t it? To make sure they are safe and they don’t worry about it?” Anakin questioned, smiling softly at her. “You can’t concern yourself about this. I know this past year was a difficult one, but things are getting better and will only improve from here.”

“You really believe that?”

He stared at her for a moment, before standing up and approaching her, getting down on one knee. “Yes, I do,” he replied before retrieving from his inner pocket, the blue velvet box and opening it. “Padmé Naberrie, will you give me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She gasped, nearly knocking over her glass as her hands pulled back in shock. “ _ Anakin.” _

“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. This year has proven to me how much you are a part of me and I want to feel like this for the rest of my days. I want to be your Prince Consort. Only yours.”

“Yes,” she blurted behind her hands. “Yes, of course, yes. Nothing would make me happier. I love you too.” He laughed and took the ring from the box, placing it on her finger, before kissing her knuckles. “How did I get so lucky?” Padmé sighed, looking at the ring with a brilliant smile as she rubbed her nose against his.

“We both did, one year ago,” he kissed her forehead. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. It reminds me of your eyes,” she smiled.

“My father commissioned it to give it to my mother before he passed. He never had the chance to give it to her, but Qui-Gon believes he would have liked me to have it and I think it’s perfect,” he told her. “I’m happy you like it.”

“I adore it. Almost as much I adore you. In fact,” her smile turned sly. “I think we might just have to skip dinner and go straight to  _ celebrating _ .”

“That is a fantastic idea, my love,” he kissed her jawline.

“I have them now and then.”

* * *

“All of this is mine?” Anakin asked, raising one eyebrow at Qui-Gon. “ _ All  _ of it?” 

“You have the choice to refuse it,” his cousin reminded him. “And I wouldn’t blame you. But at the very least, I think you should go through your father’s personal effects. I’d start with this.” He pulled out a yellowed envelope that had clearly been opened. There was no address on it, only the single word  _ Father _ written in a strong broad script. “I believe it was written before he left with your mother.”

Anakin took the envelope, pulling out the letter inside and opening it. 

_ I’m sorry that we’re parting on these terms, but I am not sorry for the choices I’ve made. I don’t doubt you’ve always thought you were doing what was best for the family, but I don’t agree with those choices. I never have, and I should have told you so a long time ago. _

_ I’m hopeful that someday, you will understand why I did this. Irrationally, I hope we can find a way to reconcile, but if your behavior is any indication, I don’t know if that’s possible. So, I’m leaving with Shmi to resume my duties at the Embassy, but when the mission is over, I will be staying in London with her. I don’t regret it. I love her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, to build a family with her. The fact that you cannot even pretend to be happy for me hurts me deeply. _

_ I want nothing more from you. Not your financial support, not your advice, and not your name. Not if it comes with the price of sacrificing who I am and what I feel. _

_ Goodbye, Father. _

_ Luc Skywalker _

“I like to believe our relationship would have been amazing and that he would be very supportive of the relationship I have with Padmé,” Anakin said as he lightly touched the words before folding the letter. He would show it to his mother later. “I do prefer Luc Skywalker than Lucien Palpatine,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep the name alive,” Qui-Gon’s eyes twinkled. “In time.”


	19. We Rule the Kingdom

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” Shmi remarked, watching Anakin from the doorway with a smile. “You wear a uniform well.”

“I’ve been told,” he chuckled, remembering how antsy his wife had been to take it off of him the first time he wore it to a state dinner. “You look beautiful too, Mum,” he approached her and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, darling.” She hugged him carefully. “Have you seen Padmé today?”

“No, not as of yet. Her ladies whisked her away in the early hours of the morning,” Anakin sighed.

“They might have been panicking about last-minute alterations to her gown,” Shmi pointed out. “Those have been frequent lately.”

“No one would guess that we would be pregnant on this date,” he beamed. “Or that it would be twins, which has made her expand. Considerably. Don’t tell her that, though, please. I love seeing her pregnant.”

“For the life of me, I don’t know why you didn’t simply delay the coronation.”

“Her parents  _ really  _ want to hand over the reins to us and go on a very extended vacation. They have been on the throne for decades, I can accept that they are eager to do this. Besides, Padmé wants to show that even though she is well into her second trimester, pregnancy will not stop her,” Anakin pointed out.

“Well, if your little boy and girl are anything like you were, she might be feeling unusually energized. I remember around this point with you, I was constantly going out and running.” Shmi moved to adjust the medals on his chest. “But it won’t last long. Thank God she’ll have that throne to sit in for most of the coronation.”

“She keeps complaining they are  _ too  _ active,” Anakin snickered. “Always kicking and moving. Especially when I talk. They like to throw a party. I can’t wait until they are born. I am  _ really  _ excited to hold them, Mum.”

“We all are, my darling.” She moved to take a comb from the dresser and ran it through his hair. “Now go to her.”

“If I’m allowed to go within her room,” he rolled his eyes. “Those girls can bite when they’re stressed,” he quipped as he left the room he had been preparing himself in, and headed down the hall where he could hear many female voices arguing and discussing details he couldn’t comprehend. Knocking on the door, there was absolute silence. “Can I please have my wife back?”

“Let me sit down!” Padmé complained from behind the gaggle of attendants. The other women parted as Sabé helped her into a chair. “Ani. You look wonderful,” Padmé sighed, rubbing the bump of her stomach that was nearly hidden beneath her billowing lavender skirts.

“You look beautiful, love,” he navigated through the women to get to her, taking her hands, he squeezed them and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Also a little tired. Are these two giving you trouble?” Anakin teased, letting go of one of her hands to rub lovingly over her stomach.

“They are making my back ache and we still need to finish my hair and my jewelry,” Padmé complained, spinning her engagement ring around her swollen finger.

“I believe they will be good now,” he smiled gently at her, leaning down to kiss her stomach. “It will be a couple of hours and then we can claim you need to retire for a well-deserved rest.”

“Mm—”

“Don’t kiss him, we just finished your makeup!” one of the handmaidens scolded. Padmé huffed, slouching back further in the chair.

“Ugh, fine.”

“I’m very proud of you,” Anakin said. “We could have postponed the coronation but you wanted to do it with these two still partying inside of you,” he smirked, poking at her stomach. He received a kick for that

“Well, I was rather attached to the idea of being Queen before I was thirty,” she joked, catching his hand and squeezing it. “Babies or no.”

“Here we are, wish accomplished,” he beamed. “I love you. I will be by your side today, all day. It’s a promise. When you feel it’s enough, we’ll leave and I’ll give you a very deserving foot rub, is that alright?”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“Perfect, I’ll let the girls finish what they have to do,” he kissed her cheek. “I love you, your Majesty.”

“Not quite yet, I’m not,” she reminded him. “But I love you too, Prince Anakin.”

“I will never get used to that,” he chuckled.

“Stop delaying it, Skywalker, move it!” Sabé protested impatiently. “We still have things to take care of here.”

Anakin sighed and threw a glare her way. Even after three years of marriage, Sabé and Anakin had an ongoing cold war, with Anakin refusing to let go of the fact she once abducted him and Sabé equally refusing to apologize. 

“I’ll be waiting for you… wherever Obi-Wan tells me to be,” he winked at her.

“The carriage,” Padmé reminded him. “And say hello to Satine too.”

“Right, the carriage. I will.”

He finally left the room and allowed the women to flock towards the future Queen, to prepare her so everything was flawless. Walking down the hall, he saw Obi-Wan already waiting for him. 

“Where’s Mrs. Kenobi?” Anakin quipped, approaching his mentor and best friend with a beaming smile.

“Lady Kryze is with the other members of the aristocracy, along with Korkie,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “And I will thank you to stop the various iterations of ‘I told you so,’ regardless of whether or not you are my Prince.”

“Korkie… her nephew with your eyes and your cheekbones?” Anakin smirked as he walked in front of Obi-Wan, towards the exterior of the Palace, where the carriage awaited them. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a blood test?” He teased.

“ _ Anakin _ .”

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a bunch,  _ Ben, _ ” Anakin rolled his eyes, using Satine’s nickname for Obi-Wan. “I am simply teasing you. I am happy for you.”

“And I am happy for you, but I don’t tease you about it.”

“Because I am your Prince,” he drawled out before stopping and turning around. “In all seriousness, I do appreciate all your work. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for your guidance. I would have eventually made a fool of myself and run away somewhere to hide for the rest of my life.”

“I would never dream of leaving you to the wolves.” Obi-Wan hugged him. “Tempting though it has been through the years.”

“I haven’t been that bad,” Anakin chuckled, patting his back. “The occasional identity crisis and anxiety attack, but hey, I have been improving.”

“You’ve also been a little shit at several points in your life. And I’m saying that now. Before your wife has a crown on her head.”

Anakin laughed. “Careful, she is hormonal and she loves me to the point that anything against her baby daddy is grounds for execution,” his eyes twinkled.

“Even Padmé wouldn’t go  _ that _ far.”

“What are you two talking about?” Padmé asked, coming down the hall with Rabé and Yané holding her long train out behind her. With her hair now swept up and diamonds glittering on her ears and neck, she looked nothing short of glorious.

“How far would you go to protect me,” Anakin said, absolutely in awe of her. He extended his hand to her. “My Queen?”

“My Prince,” she replied, placing her fingers on his palm. “ _ Monsieur  _ Kenobi _. _ ”

“ _ Votre Majesté.”  _ Obi-Wan bowed.

Anakin helped her into the carriage, letting Yané and Rabé handle the train of lavender tulle and silk. How  _ he  _ would fit inside, was a mystery to him, but the handmaidens somehow managed to leave space for him to sit next to her. Climbing into the carriage, he took his seat and Obi-Wan closed the door. 

“We’ll be in the car behind you. Good luck, you two,” he bowed his head slightly and pulled away, Rabé and Yané leaving with him.

“Nervous?” Anakin asked, taking his wife’s hand.

“Not when I have you,” she replied, raising a hand to wave at the crowds as the horses started walking. “I know if it’s needed, you’ll save me. You always do.”

“I always will,” he whispered, kissing her cheek tenderly. Padmé lowered her hand for a moment, placing it at her stomach.

“They’re kicking.”

“Luke and Leia want to be part of your big day,” Anakin grinned, placing a hand on top of hers. “Don’t you, sweethearts?” He whispered at her stomach.

“I know we agreed on Luke, but where did Leia come from?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was reading about traditional girl names in Naboo and Leia stuck with me, because of how well it goes with Luke. I was trying it out. Don’t you like it?”

“Did you read what it means, or did you just like the sound of it?” she asked, not answering his question.

“Child of heaven,” he explained. “Her mother is an Angel, so why not?”

Padmé laughed. “Luke and Leia. It’s perfect. You’re brilliant.”

“I have my moment now and then.” She cupped his neck with one hand and kissed him lightly. 

“To hell with my makeup. I adore you, and the world should know it.”

“Words to live by, my Queen,” he beamed at her. Then the sound of cameras flashing and people cheering broke the illusion of a private moment.

“We’ll continue this later,” Padmé promised. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

“I sincerely hope not,” he said with a sly smile, before waving to the crowds outside.

* * *

If this had been happening at any other time, Padmé would not have needed an escort to make the relatively short walk from the entrance of the cathedral to the dais at the center. But the twins made doing that gracefully an impossibility. So, Sabé and Eirtaé flanked her, helping her keep her balance as she made her way to the steps and helped her kneel.

Her father, already seated on the throne, stood, removing the crown from his head with his own hands. “Padmé of the House Naberrie, Princess of Theed, my daughter…” His voice cracked.

“I am here, Naboo,” Padmé replied solemnly, looking up at him. “What would you will of me?”

Ruwee swallowed, clearly holding back tears. “We would will you to be the Queen of this land we all love so well. Are you willing?”

“I am, Naboo.” She felt the twins kick in response and smiled softly, rubbing her stomach to calm them.

“Will you lead with the strength of Set and the courage of Veré, showing courage in times of strife and kindness in times of peace?”

“With all my heart, I swear I will.”

“Will you govern with the wisdom of Amidala, enforcing the law to grant justice and mercy, wherever it may be so needed?”

“With all my heart, I swear I will.”

“And will you swear above all else, to love your people and your country, to serve them selflessly and loyally until the end of your reign?”

Here, Padmé paused, glancing back briefly to look at Anakin. He gave a confident smile, knowing very well the vow she had to make, but also knowing, with all his heart, her love for him, for the family that they were building together. She turned back to her parents and bowed her head. “With all my heart, I swear I will,” she said for the third time, closing her eyes. A silence fell over the cathedral as she felt the crown settle in her hair.

“You knelt as Padmé of the House Naberrie, Princess of Theed. Rise now as Amidala the Second, Queen of Naboo,” Ruwee declared solemnly. “Long live the Queen.”

_ “Long live the Queen,”  _ was repeated throughout the cathedral in unison as people embraced their new monarch. Sabé and Eirtaé helped Padmé stand, escorting her towards the throne while her parents moved aside, and all four of them spread out her skirts as she settled into the massive gilt chair.

“My family, my lords and ladies, my people, my friends, I thank you all.” Her voice was soft, but the acoustics of the cathedral made it carry across the hall as clearly as if she had been shouting. “And what pledges I make today, I hope I may expect in return from all of you. For the peace and prosperity of our realm.” It wasn’t a particularly long speech, but there would be plenty of time for that at the banquet scheduled to start as soon as they got back to the palace.

However, before the banquet, someone else had to do his pledge and Anakin felt his stomach drop as the moment arrived. Obi-Wan signaled him for him to move forward and after a deep, steadying breath, he did so, walking serenely to the dais where the throne stood and kneeling before his wife. No, at that moment, she was his sovereign.

“I, Anakin, Prince of Theed, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship; and faith and truth I will bear unto you to live and die, against all manners of folks. So help me God,” he recited the short pledge Obi-Wan had made him say over, and over again until he could recite it in his sleep.

Standing, he took her hand with the intention of kissing her knuckles, since protocol didn’t allow him to do much else. He wasn’t counting on being pulled forward and he certainly was not counting on having his wife’s lips on his. He could almost  _ hear  _ Eirtaé and Obi-Wan’s groans as they muttered ‘ _ that is not the protocol’.  _ Padmé giggled as she pulled back.

“I gladly accept your pledge,” she said, giving the required response, but then her eyes sparkled as she added, “ _ mon chevalier, _ my partner, my husband, my love.”

“I love you,” he whispered, beaming at her as he descended the dais, returning to his place where he would remain until the end of the ceremony. As Chancellor Bonteri stepped forward to give her oath next, Padmé looked over and winked at Anakin, a gesture that lasted only a moment before she slipped back into the serenity of a more royal expression. He shook his head with a smile that wouldn’t leave his face. The breach of protocol and even the small moment, the glances they exchanged was just further proof of how in love they were and how they were equals in their relationship and he couldn’t be more proud of her at that moment.

* * *

“So, did you make sure to tell your chief of staff that if he tries to lecture me for breaking protocol, I’ll throw him in the dungeon?” Padmé’s voice came teasingly from behind.

“I am sure his wife has got enough champagne in him to make him forget that moment,” Anakin chuckled, turning around and leaning against the railway, to see his wife standing in the doorway to the balcony where, a long time ago, they stood on her birthday, the first one they shared together. “How’s the party?”

“Exhausting, obviously.” She moved to stand next to him, supporting her stomach with both hands. “I’m just glad no one is trying to claim a dance from me, these two make it quite a challenge. Besides, my husband is a  _ terribly _ jealous man at times.”

“He sounds dreadful,” he commented, placing his hands on her stomach, rubbing his thumbs in small circles lovingly.

“Simply ghastly, I can’t take him anywhere. But then, I adore him, so what can I do?”

“It’s a very difficult situation,” his eyes twinkled. “Although I heard he’s very charming and loves you more than life itself.”

“Oh, he does. Took a bullet for me once.”

“I  _ am _ pretty heroic,” he chuckled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

“You might have, but I am very pregnant, so there’s the chance I’ve forgotten.”

“You are stunning, my love,” he repeated and kissed her properly, the twins nestled between them.

“So,” she paused to take his hands, twisting their fingers together. “What do you want to do next, my love?”

“Definitely hold our children,” he replied. “You?”

“I was thinking the same thing. I would love for us to go back to Varykino and have them there.”

“It’s a wonderful idea. Near your due date, we can travel to Varykino and stay until they are born and then for a few weeks. Imagine their first photos, in those luscious fields. It’s to die for. Besides, nothing is as private as Varykino or will give us as much peace as the villa and that is so very important in your state.” 

“A few precious weeks to have our family all to ourselves,” she agreed. “It sounds perfect.”

“Then it’s settled. We deserve it since neither of us can really take a maternity or paternity leave, now can we?” He chuckled.

“We are in a rather unfortunate occupation,” Padmé conceded. “But we knew what we were getting into. And I’m very grateful that you love me enough to have agreed to stay with me in this madness.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice, I couldn’t live without you,” he teased.

“You know I feel the same way.” She kissed his hands and then his lips. “ _ Roi de mon Coeur _ .”


End file.
